


Misanthropy (Jeff the Killer x Ticci Toby)

by OofMyNuggets



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Murder, Blood, Blood and Gore, Clockwork just wants to fuck, Creepypasta, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Eyeless is an asshole, F/F, F/M, Gay Sex, Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, Homophobic Language, Homosexuality, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insanity, Insomnia, Internalized Homophobia, Jeff is an idiot, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multi, Murder, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sally is sweet murderous bean, Toby just needs some love, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 67,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OofMyNuggets/pseuds/OofMyNuggets
Summary: mis·an·thro·py /məˈsanTHrəpē/nouna dislike of humankind."the streak of misanthropy in his nature"
Relationships: Brian Thomas/Timothy "Tim" Wright, Eyeless Jack/Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack/Original female character, Hoody/Masky (Creepypasta), Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer/Tobias Erin "Toby" Rogers | Ticci Toby, Natalie Ouellette | Clockwork/Tobias Erin "Toby" Rogers | Ticci Toby, Tobias Erin "Toby" Rogers | Ticci Toby & Original Female Character
Comments: 26
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

The mansion was quiet. The air coming in through the open window was crisp and cool, and the moon was full and sitting high in the sky.

Dark eyes stared out at the dark forest surrounding the house of inhuman murders. A permanent smile carved onto his ashen face. He had his arms crossed over his bare chest as his unblinking eyes watched the night.

“Jeff?...what's wrong?” a voice drifted into his thoughts, and he turned his mutilated face towards the being lying upon his bed. 

Leaning up on their elbow, the smaller male rubbed at the black liquid that leaked from his empty sockets. Jeff didn’t mind that some of the liquid stained his pillow, or that the smaller male couldn’t really see him. He smiled, the already torn flesh on his cheeks stretching even more than usual. 

“Everything is fine Eyeless, just go back to sleep” his voice was deep and somewhat raspy. The smaller male tilted his head slightly to the side, “I can sense that you are thinking deeply about something, so what's wrong?” he asked. Jeff sighed, he really couldn’t get anything past the blind boy. “Something just feels different, I can feel it in my gut, something is going to change real soon” he said. 

“Hmm…” hummed Eyeless, his head tilting even more to the side. “Well, until that happens let's just do what we always do” he declared. Jeff laughed, “what? raise hell and wreak havoc?” he joked. Eyeless chuckled, “I was thinking more along the lines of….enjoying each other's company”. Something flashed behind Jeff’s lidless eyes, and if the smaller male had eyes of his own, he would have seen the lustful look that occupied the killer's face.

He could feel the bed dip down beside him, and then a pair of tattered lips collided with his own. Little did they know, that Jeff’s gut feeling, was closer to acquiring then they actually thought.

**~ Chapter 1 ~**

The blades cut through the flesh and bone connecting the poor unsuspecting victim’s head to their body. Efficiently cutting off any remaining screams that reverberated around the forest. Blood splattered across the ground and the pair of orange goggles hiding wild golden eyes. The killer breathed hard behind his mask, as blood dripped down onto the forest floor and staining his gray-brown jacket.

“He didn’t want to p-play with me” a sniffle came from the killers right. He turned his wild gaze to the crying little girl. She was clutching her teddy bear as tightly as he was clutching his two hatchets. 

Losing his anger and need to kill, the young boy crouched beside the crying eight year old. “Shh, it’s ok Sally, he has paid for his misdeeds” the masked teen cooed, patting the girl's long, curly, blood clotted hair. Her big green eyes stared up into his masked face, “ r-really T-Toby?” she whimpered. He nodded and turned his head towards the lifeless body of his latest victim. Sally did the same, and giggled at the corpse.

“He looks funny without a head” she laughed. Toby chuckled as well, “I guess he does huh”. “Come on Sally let's go” Toby said, taking the girl by the hand and walking away from the already decaying corpse, that will be the resting place of maggots by the next morning. 

The two had continued walking around the dark tree’s for hours, Sally skipping and twirling around, Toby keeping an eye out for a place to stay, or for his next victim. Occasionally, the masked teen would give an involuntary twitch, either it being his neck, arm or wrist. He had always twitched, even before his days of murder and blood. He was criticized for his uncontrollable twitching for the whole of his life, earning him the oh so original name, Ticci Toby. A name he now goes by to this day. 

His neck jerks awkwardly to the left at the thought of the idiots of his past. They were not of importance anymore. He already got his revenge on them. 

He would also occasionally pause and give a harsh cough, one that sounded as though he had shards of glass lodged in his esophagus. But instead of coughing up glass, the poor murderer spit up blood. He had no clue as to why this was happening to him, but he had to admit that it was better than the times he doubled over and vomited large amounts of blood and blackened chunks of God knows what. The strange sickness had driven him crazy for the past few weeks, to the point where he ripped off the bandages surrounding his hands and gnawed away at the flesh on his fingertips. Though he couldn’t feel any, he was sure there was some type of pain that came with the blood.

“Toby?” there was a tug on his jacket. He looked down to see Sally looking up at him worriedly. “What is it Sal?” he asked, bending down to her level. The eight year old leaned closer so she could whisper in his ear. “Who is that strange man following us?”.

Toby jerked up and whipped around quickly, clutching his hatchets tightly. He spun around in circles looking for the ‘strange man’ Sally spoke of. He saw nothing in the thick blackness that surrounded them and the trees. “Sally what are you…” Toby turned to confront the young girl, only to see her back to him, and her wide eyes staring up at an inhumanly tall, faceless creature.

‘What the hell!’ Toby thought, his eyes widening at the faceless monster before him. The monster was staring down at Sally, at least that’s what he thought the monster was doing. It’s blank white head was tilted downward as if it was giving the young girl all it’s attention. The masked teen felt himself twitching uncontrollably, he lifted one of his hatchets and threw it at the creature towering over them both. The hatchet twirled, blade over handle, and it was inches from lodging itself in the creature's skull, before it was caught by a black writhing tentacle.

The creature turned its sightless glare on the masked boy, it drifted passed Sally and towered over Toby, he had to crane his neck to see it’s whitehead. Toby felt static begin to fill his mind. It felt as though cotton was being stuffed into his brain. He felt the familiar churning in his stomach that warned him of the upcoming retching of his insides. The creature bent down until it’s blank face was directly in front of his masked and goggled one. The twitching started up once again, and Toby forced himself passed the stuffy static in his mind, and swung his other hatchet at the monster's face. 

His wrist was caught in yet another tentacle. “W-what the h-hell” Toby stuttered as he was yanked closer towards the creatures….face? The static in his head became more intense, and he began to struggle. He could taste the blood beginning to fill his mouth, and it coated his tongue like a typed of disgusting glue. The tentacle around his wrist became tighter, almost painful, but of course he didn’t feel it, he was incapable of feeling pain.

“Toby! Don’t fight him, he wants to help”. The masked male paused in his struggle for a moment to glance behind the creature. Sally was looking at him, clutching her teddy bear to her chest. “W-what do y-you mean?” he said in a small voice. Sally smiled, the dried blood around her face, chipping off. “He says his name is Slenderman, and he wants us to come with him” she said happily. 

“S-Slender… what!?” Toby cried out, beginning to struggle once more. He was confused and becoming angrier by the minute. He had no clue what this… Slenderman thing was. And what was even worse, the damn creature took his precious hatchets! His twitching was becoming uncontrollable. 

“Toby please, he says that if you keep struggling, he’s going to have to knock you out” Sally whimpered. Toby didn’t listen to the small girls warning, how could she hear the monster in the first place!? He kicked out at the tall monster's stomach, landing a single kick to his ribs. He only slightly recoiled, before his tentacles shot out and wrapped around the teens body. “Oh, Toby you should have listened” Sally sighed. Her voice was not even slightly sorry or worried.

Toby’s gold eyes widened behind his orange goggles as he felt the tentacles tighten around his torso. There was a cracking and he felt something within him snap and become displaced, but other then that he felt nothing. 

He tore his hand from the grasp of the tentacle, and ripped his mask from his mouth. Blood burned up from his throat and splattered the ground beneath him, just barely missing the monster's shoes. He forced as much of the wretched liquid from his mouth and stomach as he could, and by then his head felt lighter than a feather. He watched as the faceless monster known as Slender man straightened and took Sally’s small hand. And began walking away into the dark forest. His tentacles wrapped tightly around Toby’s body. As they disappeared together into the haunting forest around them. And against the will of his body, Toby closed his eyes, joining the darkness around him.


	2. Chapter 2

**~ Chapter 2 ~**

Toby woke to a ringing in his head. It was annoying to be honest. He groaned as he sat up on his bed….wait! Bed?. 

The teen jumped up from the object he was laying on only previously, and saw that in fact it was a bed. But how did he end up on it? Looking around, Toby noticed he was within a rather large room. It was clean and neat and over all actually very nice. He hated it.

Walking up to the window situated beside the nicely made bed, he looked out at the outside world. The trees that surrounded the place he was held in seemed oddly similar to the trees he was in the previous night. The sun was slowly setting behind said trees, and was giving off a warm orange glow that matched the color of his eyes. 

The teen reached up to feel the cool glass of his orange goggles, and the thick material of his mask that covered his nose and mouth. He twitched. Where the hell was he?

He reached down to the belt that sat comfortably on his waist, and noticed the empty spaces in the holders. He twitched again as he began to frantically search for his hatchets. ‘No, no, no, no….’ he cried in his head, as he tore the sheets from the bed and crawled onto his stomach in search of his precious weapons. 

With a growl he returned to his feet, chewing on his fingers in desperation. ‘Who the fuck took them!’ he mentally screamed. He was twitching savagely, but suddenly he stopped, ‘where’s Sally?’. He rushed out the door that he noticed earlier in the room, just barely realizing that it was left unlocked. He was dead set on finding the abused little eight year old. He had swore to not only her but himself as well that he would watch over her, so that he wouldn’t lose her, just like he did his sister. That little girl was all that was left of his human side, even if he was supposed to be dead, it kept the brotherly humane part of him from being completely devoured by the darkness the inhabited the rest of his body.

He rushed down the long hallway, his feet pounding on the wood flooring. He paid no mind to the other doors around him, not wanting to get stuck in any of them. From the window he saw that he was at least three floors up, so his plan was to get down the stairs first. Find the bastards that kidnapped him, kill them, then find Sally. But what ever happened to that faceless monster?

Toby slowed in his advancements, the stairs only inches in front of him. What  _ did _ happen to the monster. He shook his head, that didn’t matter now, what mattered was finding Sally and getting the hell out of this unfamiliar place. The gold eyed teen began his trek down the stairs, pausing to check the second floor hallway, before continuing downward.

“Hey.” He paused, and twitched. Turning slowly, he looked back up the stairs. Standing about five or six steps above him was a tall figure, taller than him, but definitely not as tall as the faceless monster. They wore a black hoodie, there hands hidden within the pockets. There face was covered in a blue mask, no mouth, the eye holes completely black and leaking a strange blackish liquid. Toby backed down a step, unsure on what to expect from the strange looking…..stranger. “What’s wrong?” the stranger said, tilted their head to the side, the blackish liquid running in the new direction. “Missing something?”, Toby could almost hear the amusement in the stranger's voice.

The hatchet wielding killer twitched, he desperately wanted to tackle the son-of-a-bitch, but he doubted his capabilities without his hatchets. Backing down slowly, Toby descended a few more steps before turning forward once again, and trekking down the stairs. 

Not paying attention to his feet, the teen failed to notice the mass of red and black taking up one of the steps. So with a loud yelp, and within a flurry of red and black, Toby went tumbling down the stairs, hitting each step with a loud thud. 

The teen stopped on the bottom floor, sprawled on his back, feeling dizzy from falling head over tails. Toby heard the low, threatening growl before he felt the weight of the beast on top of him. His golden eyes widened at the sight of the thing on top of him. It’s fur was mostly red, black streaking through it just slightly. It’s bared teeth were jagged, colored yellow, black and dripping blood. It’s breath was a mixture of rotting flesh and festering garbage. The wide hollow white eyes that stared down into his own golden one’s, made him feel as though he was staring at the embodiment of the devil himself. 

Another growl tore threw the demented creature’s throat, bringing forth another wave of disgusting breath, causing Toby to gag. The beast opened its wide smiling mouth, ready to tear into the prey beneath it’s paw’s, “Smile!, enough, we need him alive”. 

Toby tilted his head up and noticed yet another masked stranger before him. The beast stepped off the teen after another growl, Toby went to get up and the thing lunged at him, causing him to fall back with a cry of surprise. What Toby could now see was a large dog, trotted away, giving off long huffs of air, that the teen could have swore was laughter, a whisper of “Spread the Word” was whispered behind the dog, as it disappeared into a dark room beside the stairs.

“W-what the h-hell” Toby mumbled wiping drool off his cheek from where it fell from the dogs rancid mouth. “Come, the Operator is waiting”, Toby turned to the sudden voice, taking in the appearance of a tan jacket and white mask, the black surrounding the eye’s and coating the lips of the mask throwing the teen off on if the stranger was male or female.

“W-where the hell a-am I?!” Toby demanded, “Come, all will be explained shortly” the stranger spoke, turning to walk the way they had come. Toby twitched, he reached out and grabbed the stranger’s shoulder, spinning them around, “No! God damn it, tell me where the fuck I am! Where the hell is Sally!” he yelled beginning to feel the ever present anger begin to boil over. 

The stranger knocked away his hands, “come” they said again sounding a bit annoyed. The white masked stranger began to walk again, the heart seemed to be set on getting where they were supposed to go. “Fuck this!” Toby growled, he grabbed the collar of the tan jacket and aimed a punch for the white mask. 

His fist made contact with the piece of plastic, sending the stranger’s head snapping backwards. But, instead of sending them to the floor as intended, the front of Toby’s jacket was grabbed, and a fist, this time made contact with his face. Toby’s head snapped backwards, but of course he felt nothing. 

Toby kicked out and landed a hit to his opponents knee, they fell to the floor in a mass of swinging arms and flailing legs. Toby landed on his back, the white masked bastard on top of him, a flurry of fists came down on his face, he threw up his arms to keep the punches from swelling up his eye’s so his vision could stay clear. Toby stuck his knee into the stranger’s stomach, they let out a grunt and the onslaught of fists paused briefly, but that was all he needed to throw them off.

It was Toby’s turn to release some built up tension, he let his fist collide repeatedly with the stranger’s face, unknowingly cracking the white plastic. His nose was bleeding, blood dripped from his nostrils, splattering the tan jacket beneath him. Toby grabbed onto the stranger’s head, pulling it up, then slamming it down into the wood flooring, he did this three more times before he was tackled from the side. 

His back was pulled against someone’s back, legs wrapped around his waist, and arms found their way around his neck. From his new position, Toby had a good view of the stranger he was fighting only moments ago. What was left of the white mask began to fall away in small pieces. Chocolate brown hair fell into pale blue eye’s, the mask revealed a strong face and sharp jaw line, blood ran from various wounds on the strangers abused face.

“Are you alright Masky?” the voice came from the new addition to this growing conundrum of hidden face’s, that was holding Toby in a headlock. The stranger, which Toby now knew as ‘Masky’, rubbed the back of his head and winced slightly, he pulled his hand back and it was coated in blood. “I’m fine” Masky said. 

Masky advanced towards Toby, he of which started to struggle in his captures hold. Masky clutched the teen’s jacket front in his fist’s, Toby glared up at the other male in distaste. “Either, Hoodie is getting better then you, or your just losing your edge, eh Masky?” a laugh drew the three male’s attention to the stair’s. Toby recognized the blue mask and dripping black liquid, “shut the hell up Eyeless” Masky growled, “Hoods, let’s get him to the Operator”. The person behind him began to shift, and he was being placed on his feet. 

Immediately, Toby swung his fist around to knock his previous capture to the ground, but his fist was caught in an iron grip, “don’t touch him!” Masky hissed into Toby’s ear as he slammed the smaller male into the wall. “Now now, don’t mess with the dear Proxies plaything” Eyeless laughed walking up beside both males. “I’m surprised he isn’t falling over from this though” the blue masked being said grabbing hold of Toby’s ribs and squeezing. The teen felt a slight discomfort but that was all, “interesting” Eyeless whispered. 

“Knock him out if you must” Toby turned his eye’s to the fourth male in the hall, the hood of their large sweat shirt was up, covering most of the black and red mask, he had his hands shoved in the sweat shirt pockets, and really he just seemed bored. “Not a bad idea” Masky smirked. Toby began to struggle once again, not liking the idea of being knocked out again. 

“Toby!” the small voice had all four heads turning. The sight of the little brown haired girl, made Toby’s heart swell. “Sally!”, Masky let the teen go, and he fell to his knees, arms open wide as the small girl ran to him. He clutched her close to his chest, whispering things like, “i’m glad your ok”, or “where the hell were you?”. Sally giggled as Toby tightened his hold on her. “Toby, you have to talk to someone important ok” she laughed. The teen looked at the girl in confusion. “W-who?”.

Sally sighed, “do you remember that man we met in the woods? The very tall one?” she asked, “v-vaugely, why?” he said narrowing his eyes. “He want’s to speak to you” she said happily. Toby sat back on his heels, “h-how can you t-trust these people S-Sal?” Toby whispered, Sally just smiled, “Slendy told me to!” she said in a “duh” sort of tone. 

Toby looked over his shoulder, the three males were watching them have their little conversation, Eyeless and Hoodie with there hands in there pockets, Masky standing close to Hoodie, his arms crossed over his chest. “Are y-you sure about t-this?” he asked turning back to Sally, she nodded her head vigorously.

With a sigh, Toby stood up straight and made a show of popping his back. Reaching down he took Sally’s small hand into his slightly larger one. “Ok then….” he mumbled, still not sure about the situation he was getting himself into, “lead t-the way S-Sal”.


	3. Chapter 3

**~ Chapter 3 ~**

Toby allowed the small girl to lead him down the seemingly never ending twisting and turning halls. She pointed out as many things as she could, any rooms or doors that she wasn't sure about, Sally would turn and ask one of the two beings walking close behind. Either Masky or Hoodie would mumble a confirmation, and Sally would return to happily pointing things out.

“That’s the living room!” Sally exclaimed excitedly, pausing in front of a large white walled room. There were two medium sized couches, colored a dark blue. Two plush grey arm chairs sat close to the walls. Bookshelves lined the right and left walls of the room, the mahogany shelves packed full of books, each ranging in thickness. Placed in the center of the room, moved up against the far wall, was a large flat screen television, currently holding the moving image of the _ “Legend of Zelda”(?).  _

Toby craned his neck and looked over one of the couches, sitting on the wooden floor, right in front of the television, was what looked like a young boy, most of his blonde hair kept hidden by the strange green hat he wore. The game paused on screen, and Toby watched with rapt curiosity, as the blonde head began to slowly turn in his direction. A shiver went down the teen’s spine as black, blood dripping eye’s locked with his own from over the boy’s shoulder. The boy’s top lip curled back in a demented sort of smile, showing sharp white teeth.

The blonde boy returned to his game, leaving a slightly shaken Toby to be pulled along by Sally. “That was BEN, he’s really good a video games” Sally said nonchalantly. Toby was left to wonder what other kinds of….people inhabited the mansion. He really couldn’t call them monster’s, although that dog was close enough to any monster he could think up, but he got thrills from killing people, if that wasn’t monstrous, he didn’t know what was. Hell, Sally was dead for god's sake. He could tell he would need therapy after this. 

“If you turn right, that’s the kitchen and there you can make me some pancakes in the morning!” Sally explained cheerfully, skipping ahead slightly. Toby rolled his eyes, neck popping in the process, “w-what ever y-you say d-d-doll” he mumbled glancing into the darkened rooms as they walk by them. ‘Front door, watch for a front door’ he reminded himself, heart still set on finding a way out of the maze constructed into a house.

“And this is where you meet Slendy!~” Sally sing songed, stopping in front of yet another simple wooden door. He gave her a suspicious look, unsure on if he should continue with the idea of meeting the monster again, or if he should turn, grab the little girl and run.

“Don’t try to run Toby, you’ll get in trouble” Sally said shaking her head like she was scolding a child. Toby cursed the little girl for understanding him so much. Twitching, Toby let out a sigh, “whatever, l-l-lets g-get this o-o-over with” he made a grab for the door handle, but he was stopped by his wrist being held tightly. 

“We wait until we are allowed to enter” Masky instructed. Toby scowled and snatch his hand back. But he waited patiently, unsure on what else to do, his fingers twitched and his foot began to tap against the wood floor. Toby was getting impatient, very impatient. With a sidelong glance at Masky, the ax wielder stepped forward and opened the door quickly stepping inside before Masky or Hoodie could stop him.

“Idiot” he heard one of the masked beings hiss as he entered the room. It was dark, the sun long gone, shadows seemed to swirl and crowd the room almost as if they were reaching out and trying to grab Toby’s skin. The twitching male felt constricted, the shadows seemed to surge forward, wrapping around him and cutting off his connection to the real world, holding him down and seeping into his bones.

“Forgive us Master, but he barged in before we could stop him” Toby heard Masky speak behind him, but payed the now maskless male zero attention. “Yes. Apologies, there was a small inconvenience in the halls, it is settled now”. Who the hell was this crazy bastard talking to? Toby saw nothing but shadow, heard nothing but Masky’s voice, and felt nothing but ice cold foreboding.

Hoodie and Masky, without warning, stepped to the side merging with the swirling darkness consuming the far wall. Toby was left alone in the middle of the room, conscious of the eyes he could feel burning into his skin. The males neck ticked and cracked, he could feel a much darker presence in the room, watching, waiting, observing.

The blackness shifted, swirled away as a figure emerged from the shadows themselves. Toby instantly recognized the faceless being, the inhumanly tall creature stalked up to the twitching male, it’s movements almost unnoticeable, light, and soft. One would almost claimed the creature was floating. Toby, staggered back as the creature got closer, his neck cracking as he leaned it back to stare up at the paper white face.

The being gave off an icy aura, it was dark, menacing, powerful. Toby felt himself shiver from the intensity. “He wishes to know if you would like to speak with him directly”, Masky’s voice spoke up from somewhere off to his left. Toby swallowed thickly, wrist popping. “W-what?” he asked dumbly. There was a small exasperated exhale of breath, “do you want to speak to him?”, Hoodie spoke this time.

Toby remained silent, his thought muddled brain going through so many different scenarios at once. “ There going to kill you. ”, “ _ Tear you apart, and feed you to that demented mutt in the hallway. _ ”, “ **You're pathetic.** ”, “ **_You deserve to die._ ** ”. The voices muttered in the back corners f his mind, Toby’s eye twitched, his neck cracked, his fingers popped. A small hand slid into his larger one, Sally gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Y-yeah. I-I want to t-talk”.

A long fingered, pale white hand reached out. The pale flesh caught the light of the moon shining thru the window, the skin seemed to glow. Toby flinched back slightly when the hand was close to his face, but he remained still, save for his twitching appendages. The hand was placed on top of Toby’s head, a thumb passing across his forehead, brushing away strands of light brown hair from where it fell against his brow.

Toby gasped as his mind cleared, the voices, the pressure he felt only moments ago, all the thundering, storming thoughts that were once causing havoc in his head, all of it was still, calm, quiet. Toby felt as though a huge weight was suddenly lifted from his being, for once he felt calm. 

“ _ I am pleased you feel that way child _ ”, Toby jerked back from the sudden voice, it was crisp and clear, much calmer than the ones that usually inhabited his mind. It pushed the other voices to the very back of his mind, they were nothing but a barely audible whisper. Toby’s wide golden eyes stared up at the faceless being, surprise, wonder and slight fear lingered in their depths.

“ _ There is no reason you should fear me. I simply wish to offer you a proposal _ ” the voice whispered in his head, Toby licked his dry lips, fingers popping, wrist cracking. “P-proposal?” the twitching killer whispered. “ _ Indeed. I am the Operator, or if you prefer, Slenderman. I am the guardian of this mansion and of all individuals that live within it. I provide food and shelter for those that are in need of it. _ ” the creature began, speaking slow so Toby could process it’s words.

Toby continued to stare up at the creature….Operator….Slenderman, whatever his name was, his head was once again starting to hurt from all the thinking and information. “ _ I wish for you to become one of my Proxies _ ” the Slenderman began again, his words pushing away the hatchet welders headache. “A w-what. P-proxy?” Toby interrupted, curiosity contorting his features. 

“ _ Indeed. My Proxies do as I ask of them. Rather a simple observation of an individual or a killing that may need to take place, my Proxies accomplish these tasks when I can not. _ ” the Slenderman stated, his words calm and patient. Toby’s eye twitched, “so you want me to become your slave?” he snapped, anger beginning to boil deep in his gut.

There was a slight shuffle from his left, but he ignored it. “ _ Slave, no. A devoted participant in keeping our existence a secret. _ ” the Slenderman explained, it’s lanky form not moving an inch during the conversation, it’s long arms and legs stock still, long fingers brushing it’s knees, back slightly hunched as to avoid hitting the ceiling. “ _ You will be provided with a bed to sleep in, food to eat, a roof to hide and protect you from the outside world. Ability to come and go as you please, whenever you wish if there is no work to be done. And the opportunity to interact with other individuals as yourself if you so please. _ ”

Toby scowled, his wrist popped against Sally’s grip, “and what do I have to give in return?” he asked the being, knowing there was always a catch. Nothing was ever that easy. “ _ In return, you give yourself to me, give your complete and devoted loyalty, work for me, kill for me. Follow my every request and for fill my every demand to accomplishment. This is all I ask. _ ”.

Toby pulled his hand from Sally’s grip so he could open and close his fists. He didn’t feel as though that was a very good trade, he felt that he was going to be used as nothing more than a pawn, to be discarded if he was of no more use. “ _ That is true child. If a Proxy is of no use to me, they will be disposed of. But you, your intriguing, special in a way. It is your decision, what will you choose? _ ”, “I-if I say no?” Toby asked quietly, almost afraid he will get attacked if he asked such a question. “ _ Then you may leave, I am not holding you against your will. You have yet to accept my offer, therefore you do not know our secrets, and can not be a threat. _ ”. 

The twitching killer turned and paced, if he wasn’t to occupied with his own thoughts, he would have thought twice before turning his back to such a powerful creature. But he didn’t think twice, instead, he bit down on his fingertips, blood prickled his tongue but he didn’t relent. The calm serenity that was once draped over his mind like a blanket, was suddenly yanked away, the voices jumped back into his own thoughts with what seemed like twice the force. 

The aching pounding in his head started up again, and he clutched his temple, eye twitching, neck cracking. Toby could feel that the Slenderman was no longer in his head, he gave the creature perks for allowing him privacy as he considered the offer. “ What’s it going to be? ”, “ _ You going to be a fucking slave you freak? _ ”, “ **You going to run around doing that fucker’s bidding?** ”, ‘no, i’m not going to be a slave. He said so.’, “ **And you believed him?** ”. “ **_Fool. You're pathetic._ ** ”

“ What’s your choice? ”, “ **What’s your choice?** ”, “ **_What’s your choice?_ ** ”, “ _ What’s your choice? _ ”, “ **What’s your choice?** ”. The voice’s demanded an answer, Toby bit down hard on his hand, just below his thumb, blood erupted in his mouth, coated his tongue, dripped down his chin. His head was pounding, he didn’t want to be used, didn’t want to be a pawn, didn’t want to be considered nothing more than a tool.

‘But, if I did agree, I wouldn’t have to run any more, wouldn’t have to scavenge for food. I wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught by the cops, I could have a safe place for Sally’ he tried to reason with himself. He turned his gold eyes to the little girl who was watching him with bright green eyes. He crouched in front of her, placing his bloody hands on her shoulders.

“Sal, if I-I were to l-l-leave, you w-would s-s-still come with me rig-ght?” he asked hopefully, deep hope swimming in his golden gaze. Sally stared at him silently, fresh blood running down her head, leaving streams along her face and dripping onto her dress. Her young face gave no indication to her thoughts, she bit her lip looking at the floor for a moment before turning her bright eyes to Toby once again.

“I’m sorry Toby” she shook her head and Toby felt something deep inside him break, he felt a dull ache, in his throat, behind his eyes, in his chest. He sighed and his shoulders slumped, before he stood once again. Turning to the faceless being Toby stood straight, tall and delivered his answer.

“Thanks for the offer, but…”, he looked back down at Sally, a sad look passed over her face, “I refuse”. 


	4. Chapter 4

**~ Chapter 4 ~**

Sally refused to look at him. She stomped her foot like the child she was and ran from the room. Toby wanted to go after her, hold her tightly, and tell her everything would be alright. But he knew that would only make things worse. 

That calm blanket was once again draped over his mind, and Toby released a pint up sigh of relief. “ _ If this is what you wish, I will not stop you. Masky and Hoodie will see you out. But, I must warn you. You are not a member of this house, and therefore have no protection from me, you will leave this property, travel the woods and face what ever danger that may cross your path. _ ” 

The blanket was lifted again, and the creature turned back to the shadows. It’s tall, lithe body merged with the darkness, as the black trendels swirled around him, almost welcoming him back into their grasp.

Masky and Hoodie emerged from their darkened corner, “time to go” Masky stated. Toby could have swore he heard smug relief swimming in those words. Toby scowled at the blue eyed bastard but followed him nonetheless.

“So you two do his bidding to?” Toby asked as trailed behind the two males, hands in his pockets, neck popping, eyes observing the new rooms and locked doors they passed on there way deeper into the mansion. “Yeah, were two of his Proxies. A couple of the best if you don’t mind me saying.” Hoodie claimed, masked face turning and looking at the twitching teen from over his sweatshirt clad shoulder. Toby figured he was grinning beneath the mask.

‘It’s like selling your soul to the devil’ Toby thought to himself. The teen was never one for religion, but there are moments like this that make him think that the firey pits of hell aren't a joking matter. With faceless monsters requesting your undeniable loyalty and devotion, to deformed mutts that want to rip you apart, and masked weirdos that may or may not want to kill you in your sleep. Yeah, hell seemed pretty believable. 

“Leaving already?”, Toby recognized that voice, that annoying, grating, fucking voice. He couldn’t even remember the fuckers name, and yet he hated the blue masked being already. “Yeah, why? You miss me already, i’m touched” Toby said turning to Eyeless who stood behind the three in a opened doorway to a dark lit room. Eyeless tilted his head, the black liquid oozing down his mask.

He gave a dark chuckle, “on the contrary, I’m fucking glad your not going to be around to fuck up the good shit we got going here” he waved a gray skinned hand around in the air, indicating the mansion. Toby hummed, his wrist jerking, fingers snapping. “If that’s the case, I might just stay, just to piss you off”, the urge to kill was starting to surface again, and Toby was about all to ready to start with the blue masked bastard.

Eyeless stepped closer to the twitching killer, the two similar in height, they stood face to….mask, Toby could smell a rancid smell coming from the other being, it was faint most likely due to the mask, but he could still make out the smell of rotting flesh. “You want to play pretty boy?” Eyeless asked, reaching up and shifting his mask to the side, the rotting smell hitting Toby’s nose with full force.

Eyeless gave a wide smile, his sharpened, shark like teeth stained in the black ooze. A single, blackened, dripping, empty eye socket stared at the twitching teen. “I like to play to. Most people say it’s rude and impolite, but I can’t help but to play a little with my food”, a blackened tongue flicked from between light gray lips, swiping over Eyeless’ top lip. 

Toby felt a chill go down his spine, but a dark, eerie smile split across his face. “ _ Kill him. _ ”, “ **Rip his heart out** .”, “ _ Tear that tongue out of his mouth and see how much fun he has when he can’t speak. _ ”. The voices instructed, urged Toby on to just kill the creature in front of him. 

“That's enough. The Operator ordered us to see him out, and that is what we are going to do.” Masky started, coming up beside Toby, staring Eyeless down, almost daring him to contradict his word. The grey skinned cannibal sighed, replacing his mask and throwing up his hands in mock surrender, “ok ok, down boy. No need to get your leash in a twist, i’m done here anyway.” 

Eyeless stepped past Toby, shoulder shoving against Masky’s as he passed. “Oh, and Toby.” Eyeless turned to look over his shoulder, “have fun in the Forest. A few friends of mine like to play there, would hate to have to clean up your scattered body parts”. With that, the eyeless cannibal departed, trekking up the stairs. Toby really wished that when he saw Masky and Hoodie flinch slightly, it was just his imagination.

~~~~

There wasn’t much incident after that. Toby remained quiet as he followed the Proxies to what he now knew was the front of the mansion. The large oak door stood open, Hoodie and Masky on either side, waiting for Toby to step out and finally depart into the waiting tree’s beyond.

Toby’s neck cracked as he took a couple steps onto the front porch, the moon was already high, bright and eerie as clouds drifted over it’s glowing surface. “Hey Rogers”, Toby at the sound of his last name, it irked him to know how Masky knew it. 

Hoodie stepped closer to him, reaching around to his back and pulling his two hatchets from beneath his sweatshirt. Toby’s gold eyes lit up immediately as Hoodie handed him his beloved weapons, and he twirled them in his hands with expert ease. “I cleaned em’ for you. Hope you don’t mind” Hoodie said shrugging and placing his gloved hands in his pockets. “T-thanks” Toby said quietly, holding his hatchets close to his chest, Masky just leaned against the door frame, rolling his eyes with his arms crossed.

Toby put the weapons back in there rightful place in his belt, and face the dark trees once again. “So I guess this is goodbye. Can’t say i’ll miss you guy’s” Toby said smirking over his shoulder, Masky snorted and Hoodie remained silent. The smirk fell when he eyed the woods. He was really leaving, leaving behind the perfect opportunity for safety, leaving behind his only connection to calm.

“W-when you s-see Sally. T-tell her i-i-i-i’m s-s-sorry” he muttered, wrist popping. “I’ll make sure of it” Hoodie spoke up, meaning what he said. Toby nodded and trekked down the steps, his shoes catching on loose blades of grass that stuck to his soles from the midnight dew. He didn’t look back at the mansion, didn’t look back at the two Proxies watching him leave, didn’t look back at the disappointed green eyes figure watching from an upstairs window.

He kept forward, breath coming out in white clouds until he replaced his mouth guard. He slipped his goggles over his golden eyes, and slipped silently into the Forest, the shadows and foliage welcoming him into her dark embrace.

“Should we be worried?” Hoodie turned to his friend, head tilted to convey his question. “No, we both know the Rake or Seedeater will get him before he has a chance to escape the Forest” Masky answered, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. 

They were silent for a moment, Masky breathing in the toxic smoke and letting it out to mingle with the cold night air. “Jeff might get him to” Hoodie said in a whisper, almost afraid to speak the name out loud. Masky stilled at the thought before he shivered at what the psycho killer might do to the kid.

“We can only pray that the kid dies before Jeff can get him. If not, then let God have mercy on his soul.”


	5. Chapter 5

**~ Chapter 5 ~**

Toby walked for hours, the Forest was endless it seemed, the shadows stretching on forever. On occasion Toby would come by a tattered piece of paper tacked to a tree, each one different than the one before it.

Some had a crude drawing of the Slenderman etched on them, some had words. He didn’t touch them, didn’t remove them from their trees, he just let them flutter in the chilled wind. Toby felt unnerved by them, fearful, cautious.

But he also felt cornered, stalked, watched, hunted. He knew something were in these woods, he could feel it. It was out there, lurking in the shadows, watching him, waiting for the right moment to pounce. He clutched the handle of his hatchets tighter, watching the darkness around him for any signs of movement.

Everything was quiet, almost too quiet for the twitching teen’s liking. No nocturnal animals scurried along the ground or sounded of in the branches above his head. Only the wind drifted through the leaves, rustling the trees. “ **_You're going to die here._ ** ”, “ _ Idiot, you should have stayed at the mansion. _ ”, “ **Why didn’t you accept the offer?You could be sleeping in a fucking bed right now!.** ”. Toby doubted he would have been sleeping, the voices would have patronized him either way, if would have chose to stay, they would degrade him, saying he was desperate to be used, wanted to be a pawn, a tool.

“Should….have stayed….away”. Toby paused, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The words were whispered in a tattered, shredded, scratchy tone. They felt so close that the killer thought they were spoken directly against his ear. Toby whirled around, but nothing was there but trees and shadow. 

“Should have…..stayed….away”, Toby whirled again, nothing. His eye twitched, wrist snapped, neck cracked, his golden eyes frantically searched for the source of the voice. “Going to kill…..you”. 

“What t-the fuck” the twitching killer muttered against his mouth guard, hands tight around his hatchets, the knuckles turning white. His head was spinning, the voices going wild. “ **Look what you’ve done!** ”, “ _ It’s coming for you! _ ”, “ **You're going to die mother fucker!** ”. Toby clutched his head, his brain pounding with all the yelling, his eyes screwed shut behind the orange goggles. 

“Shouldn’t….have come...going to ...kill you”. Toby’s eyes flew open, his body shutting down at the sight before him. The creature was hunched, crouched low to the ground, stalking around him on it’s hands and feet. It’s body was hairless, pale and paper thin. Toby could see it’s thin crooked bones beneath the stretched and contorted skin, it’s ribs stuck out in a severely starved manner. It’s eyes were a hollow black pit, it’s mouth twisted and stretched over jagged, yellowed, blackened, cracked teeth. It’s fingers were boney, long, nails sharp, blackened and caked in dirt.

“W-what t-t-t-t-the hell”. Toby’s heart was pounding, his eyes followed the creature as it crawled in a circle around him, watching him, whispering, getting closer. It lunged, it’s movements awkward, and uncoordinated, but it was effective in it’s attack and threw Toby off his feet. He landed with a thud on the hard packed ground, the creature clawing at his chest, cutting threw his jacket and shirt leaving shallow gashes on his skin.

Toby broke from his fear induced paralysis and swung his hatchets, catching the creature in the head with the handle of his weapon. It stund the creature, giving Toby the advantage of throwing it off his chest. It toppled to the side and Toby jumped to his feet, twirling his hatchets and preparing for another attack. 

“Fights back…..good….much fun….more it ….will be”. The thing circled Toby again, the twitching teen mimicking it’s movements. “Bring it on motherfucker” Toby hissed as the creature came at him again. Toby kicked out at it, nailing it in the chest, sending it sprawling backwards. It crawled back up again, not pausing as it shuffled in a strange sort of run towards Toby once again. 

The twitching murder swung one of his hatchets down, burying the blade in the things shoulder. Thick black blood welled up from the wound as the thing screeched, Toby swung his other hatchet, slicing a long gash across its forehead. It reacted by swiping it’s jagged nails upward, leaving red scratches across Toby’s cheek, it’s nails tearing through his mouth guard, blood welling up from the gashes.

Toby laughed, the haunting, demented sound echoing through the surrounding woods. He pulled his blade free from the thing and kicked out again. It landed on it’s back but Toby didn’t give it a chance to recover before he sent his hatchet into it’s stomach. More blood, more screeching, more insane laughter. The creature swiped out at Toby’s legs, sending him crashing to the ground, but instead of attacking it tore the hatchet from it’s stomach and began to scurry away, back into the shadows, merging with the blackness.

Toby continued to laugh as he rolled in the dirt, blood running down his face and coating his jacket and tattered shirt. He stared up at the trees overhead, the leaves so thick he couldn’t see the stars or even the moon. His laughter soon dissolved into giggles as he took deep breaths through his nose. He rolled to his side and dragged up his hatchets as he stood.

He adjusted his mouth guard, and dusted the dirt from his cloths. ( **Now imagine like in the movies when the murderer is standing behind the victim. But in this there is a white blur, then the camera focuses and we see Jeff over Toby’s shoulder with a knife in hand. That A+ horror movie shit** ). Toby’s neck popped as he tilted it to the right, the hairs on his neck once again standing on end. 

He whirled around, hatchet raised just before a knife sank into his shoulder. He caught the arm holding the knife against his forearm, his wide gold eyes staring into pupiless black pools. The sockets holding the twin chips of black was surrounded by pale, scarred tissue. Small patches of burnt skin surrounded the areas were eyelids should have been, it contrasted and was hard to hide against the bleached white skin, the skin seemed tight and leathery to Toby’s eyes.

There was almost a nonexistent nose, the skin stretched over the bones. But what drew the teens attention the most, was the large, bloody cuts carved into the strangers cheeks. There teeth were exposed for all to see on either side of there face, the edges were jagged and seemed to have been cut quickly, flesh still clung to the separated edges, but a few stretched and snapped as the leathery white lips stretched into a smile.

Toby was quickly reminded of the demented dog that tried to tear him apart, it and this guy shared the same insane glint in their eye. “W-what the h-hell a-a-a-are you?” Toby hissed, if it was possible the smile grew. The Psycho pressed down further on Toby’s arm, placing his other hand on top of the one holding the knife, pressing down with all their strength, Toby grunted against the force, he was being pressed down, until he was forced to fall on his knee.

Toby pressed against the Psycho with his left arm as he used his right to swing at their left. His wrist was caught it a tight grip, Toby could feel the bones in his wrist groaning against the pressure. With his torso opened, the Psycho sent a kick into his stomach, leaving the twitching teen to double over from the force. 

“ **Look at you, getting your ass kicked** ”, “ _ Fight back dumb ass _ ”, “ **_Come on you pathetic piece of shit, get up and kill this bastard_ ** ”. Toby began to laugh, quite at first, then it escalated into a hysterical fit. “I’ve done dealt with enough of you fuckers tonight” Toby started between fits of laughter, “I’m about sick. And. Fucking. Tired. Of Dealing with you bastards!” he yelled as he jumped to his feet and charged the Psycho. 

Toby missed his footing and caught them around the waist, it at least got a grunt from his attacker. But the Psycho was ready for the attack, he used Toby’s momentum and slung him to the side, stabbing him in the side between his ribs before the twitching teen slammed into a tree, causing the trunk to rattle slightly, a few leaves being knocked from there branch and fluttering down. Toby giggled as he crawled onto his feet, removing his mouth guard so he could spit out a mouthful of blood.

He charged the Psycho again, swinging blindly, his hatchets hitting nothing but air as they dodged his random swings. “Why. Won’t. You. Just. Stay. Still!” Toby screamed as he frantically tried to hit his target. Suddenly, the Psycho ducked down enough so he could get beneath the singing blades, and he brung his blade up in an arch. Toby threw his head back enough so the knife didn’t cut threw his throat, instead digging into the skin, leaving a long gash traveling from his chin, across his lip and stopping in the corner of his nose.

Blood streamed into his mouth, staining his teeth and tongue. “Nice try” he laughed darkly, swinging his hatchet in an upward arch much like the Psycho just did, and left his own mark. “A cut for a cut” Toby chuckled. 

The Psycho’s head had whipped backwards in the movement, there burnt black hair tossed back, his pale, patchy neck exposed before he slowly straightened their head, a crazed look swirled behind there lidless eyes, as a long pale pink tongue slipped from the right gash on there cheek and slid along the cut against their lip. Blood stained their tongue as they pulled it back into their mouth.

A cackling, maniac sound escaped the Psycho and it took Toby a moment to realize they were laughing. “It’s been a long fucking time since i’ve went against someone who can fight back as much as you have” the rasped, there voice ragged as if there vocal cords were being grated with sandpaper. “This is going to make killing you so much more fun”, they sprang from there knees and caught Toby off guard, catching him around the waist and slamming him onto the ground. 

The Psycho straddled his waist and drove their knife deep into his stomach, Toby was 57% positive that they punctured something. He swung the hatchet in his left hand, considering his right was being crushed by the Psycho’s knee. They caught his wrist, bending it backwards until Toby felt the bone snap. His hand become limp and his hatchet fell from his grip, clattering to the dirt ground.

The Psycho pulled the blade from his stomach and drove it back in, over and over again they did this becoming irritated when he gave no reaction. “The fuck is wrong with you” they seethed, a mad angry look entering their eyes, reminding Toby of a wild dog. They drove the knife into his shoulder, pulled it free and stab it into his thigh. ‘Is he purposefully avoiding my arteries?’ Toby thought to himself.

“ **Of course he is idiot!** ”, “ _ He want’s you to suffer _ ”, “ **_You can’t even get tortured right, how humiliating_ ** ”. “ **_Just hurry up and die already!_ ** ”. The voices screamed inside his head, causing it to ache, “ _ Leaving poor Sally all alone with these nut jobs _ ”, “ **_WE thought you were going to take care of her_ ** ”. ‘She’s fine, she’s safe in that mansion’ Toby argued as the Psycho left gashes along his chest, trying to get a ruse from him.

“ _ Safe! _ ”, “ **Bull shit!** ”, “ _ You left her to suffer just like Lyra. You left her to Suffer!! _ ”. Toby screwed his eyes shut, ‘no, no,no. I didn’t she’s fine, she’s ok. She’s like Lyra, she’s fine” he told himself. The Psycho took a hold of his hair and slammed his head into the ground, over and over and over again. It rattled the voices but they quickly reconnected, they morphed and shifted, becoming something more horrifying.

“Toby” the twitching teen shook his head, “no, no, no,no. You're not there”, he muttered. The Psycho rasped something, but Toby didn’t hear what they said. “Toby look at me”, he shook his head again, “Toby, LOOK AT ME!”. His gold eyes flew open, and he stared straight into the pale face of his sister. Her face was contorted, glass glistened from where it protruded from her skull. Her left eye was hanging from it’s socket, half her face was torn away, the fleshless bones shining against the grey tone of the res of her skin.

“L-Lyra” Toby whimpered his sister's name, eyes prickling with tears. “Why did you leave her Toby, you promised” she whispered, blood dripped from her mouth, “do you not care for her, do you not care for me?” she asked. “Yes! I care, for both of you!” Toby cried out, his tears sliding down his cheeks. “Then why didn't you stay? Why didn’t you stay with her?”.

Toby sniffed, the Psycho slapped him hard across the face, “I didn’t want to be used” he whispered, “I don’t want to be hurt all over again”. “Toby, don’t you think it hurt Sally when you left her” Lyra whispered in his ear. She backed away from him, and Toby reached out for his older sister, “No! Lyra don’t go, please stay! Please!” he continued to yell even after the Psycho stabbed their blade threw his and and pinned it to the ground. 

“Lyra please! I’ll go back! I’ll stay, I swear! I’ll become whatever they want me to be! I’ll stay!” Toby thrashed and screamed and cried but his sister was gone, replaced once again by the screaming voices. Toby’s head was a raging sea of chaos, hot tears made the blood a faint pinkish color as it drifted down his cheeks, everything raged and stormed in his head before everything was quite.

The blanket of calm came over him, quieted everything. “ _ Hush now child, I heard your words _ ”, through his blurred vision Toby could make out the tall faceless being. “Like hell mother fucker! This bitch is my kill!” the Psycho screeched, yanking the knife from Toby’s hand and raising it above their head. 

Before the blade could reach his heart, the Psycho was slung against a tree, there head cracking the bark. Toby felt his body being jolted upward, thin trendels wrapped themselves around his body and lifted him so his blood clotted face was even with the Slenderman’s.

“ _ Have you reconsidered my proposal child? _ ”. Toby blinked his drooping eyes, his body was shutting down on him. Toby, let out a sigh, his sister’s mutilated body drifted into his thoughts, then Sally’s small face. “Y-Yes, i’ll b-b-be….I’ll be your p-proxy” the twitching killer sighed out before his body gave out and his eyes closed against his will.

The slender creature drew back it’s shoulder’s, pleased with the outcome of the night. Blood dripped down the trendels that held the teen’s unconscious body, and the Slenderman rearranged him so he wouldn’t jostle the wounds to badly, even if the teen couldn’t feel pain, that wouldn’t stop infections from taking over his body.

Sending out more trendels, the Slenderman collected the Killer from his crumpled heap, and the discarded weapons scattered around the area. It’s lithe body made it’s way through the forest, blending the with the trees and shadows. The Rake peeked out from it’s hiding place, nursing it’s wounds and watched its Master travel past. The unconscious bodies of two killers grasped side by side in it’s trendels.


	6. Chapter 6

**~ Chapter 6 ~**

Toby’s finger’s tightened around the handles of his hatchets, golden eyes watching the darkness, head tilted slightly to listen for any snapping twig or labored breath. He was on his first….”mission”, as Masky had called it, Toby would describe it as more of a hunt and re-kidnap.

A snapping branch on his right, and the new Proxy was off, sprinting over foliage and dead leaves, dodging snagging bushes and low hanging branches. Pounding footsteps started up ahead of him, his prey no longer hiding their position. Toby’s chest was heaving, his legs growing heavy, but he continued on trekking after his mission like a wild dog.

Thru the darkness of the tree’s, Toby made out the shadowed silhouette of his prey. With a click of his neck, the Proxy brung one of his hatchets up over his head. He paused in his quick steps, lined up his shot and threw his precious weapon. It spun blade over handle and buried itself in his prey’s calf.

They let out a scream of pain and fell to the ground in a quivering heap. Toby stalked up to them, breathing hard through his mouth guard and tore the hatchet from there leg, flicking the blood onto the ground and earning himself another pathetic scream. “What’s wrong with you” he grouched, removing his mouth guard and stretching his back until it popped.

Wide, tear blurred brown eyes stared up at him. “W-whats wrong with me! Are you fucking insane!? You stabbed me in the leg!” the girl screamed at him clutching her bleeding calf. Toby rolled his eyes, “oh please, stop being such a pussy. There are worse things out here then me” he snapped, bending down and dragging the girl up by her arm.

“Let me go you psycho!” she slapped at his hand as she stumbled after him, his strong grip tightening around her upper arm. “Sorry, my job is to drag your stupid ass back sweety. I’m just doing what i’m told” Toby shrugged, ignoring the fact that the girl just bit into his fingers in an attempt to get set free. “P-please, i’ll do anything, please just….let me go” she finally reduced herself to petty begging. Toby huffed, pulling her arm harder to keep her from falling to far behind him and tripping over her dragging feet.

“I’ll….i’ll let you fuck me! I swear, you can do anything, please! Just let me go” she groveled, tears staining her cheeks. Toby’s neck popped as he stopped in his fast pace back to the mansion. He laughed darkly, turning to look at the girl over his shoulder, “you're pathetic, i’m not sure what the Operator sees in you. But I hope it’s something good if you're reducing yourself into a common slut just for freedom” he hissed before yanking her forward once again, ignoring her pleas and labored whimpers of pain.

It didn’t take the Proxy long to bring the girl back to the mansion, the magnificent structure towering over them both, windows both lit with a soft light while others were cloaked in an eerie blackness. Toby pulled the girl up the porch steps, her blood dripping on the white painted wood, looking black in the light of the moon. 

Banging open the oak front door, Toby let out a loud ‘I’m home’, just to see who he would attract. The new Proxy had learned quickly that certain irritating sounds attracted certain irritated individuals. “Shut up you idiot!”, Masky hissed coming around a corner arms crossed, irritated aura surrounding per usual. “Hey Masky! Brought back the run away!” Toby stated happily, slinging an arm over the girl's shoulder, “we got pretty close out there! She loves me so much she offered to fuck me!” Toby smiled big beneath his mouth guard. 

“You know you're not allowed to have any sort of relationship with any outsider” Masky snapped, Toby rolled his eyes, neck popping, fingers cracking, “Yeah yeah, I know. I’m not an idiot” he huffed, “that’s debatable” Hoodie chimed in as he walked past Masky, disappearing into the room Masky had emerged from. “Prick!” Toby yelled after the hooded Proxy, then turned back to Masky. “So where’s Slendy? I got his toy back and I’m ready to sleep”.

Masky sighed, “Master is busy, you’ll have to wait. Keep the girl here, and clean up your damn mess” he indicated the pooling blood surrounding him and the girl, “Hold on! I c-chased her around the d-damn Forest for h-h-hours! I’m t-tired, can’t you w-watch her!” Toby called out desperately after the masked Proxy as he disappeared back into the room after Hoodie. 

“No Roger’s! Your mission, your responsibility!” Toby heard Masky call back to him. Toby’s eye twitched and he whirled on the girl who was swaying on her feet. “See what you did, now I have to wait who knows how long! And all because you decided to run, you should have known you wouldn’t have gotten far” he growled. “I-I could a-at l-least try” she mumbled.

“Y-yeah, that’s a-all you g-got I guess” Toby sighed, taking her arm again and guiding her to the stairs. “C-come on pudgy, l-let’s get u-up these s-steps” the Proxy said poking her in the stomach. She tiredly obeyed, clinging the the male as her legs gave out. Toby huffed and slung her arm over his shoulder, dragging her up the steps.

Toby was busy watching their feet, so they wouldn’t slip and take a little tumble back down. So when the girl let out an ear splitting scream, the Proxy almost threw her over the banister. “What the hell!” he yelled back at the fear stricken girl. He followed her wide gaze, meeting a wide, hand carved smile and hollow black, blue tinted eyes. Toby narrowed his own gold eyes, fingers ticking and cracking, eye twitching.

“ _ There’s the fucker who almost killed you _ ”, “ **he should have finished the job** ”, the voices hissed in the Proxy’s head. The killer slowly stepped down the stairs, his proximity growing smaller and smaller with each step, causing the girl in Toby’s hold to struggle. The killer stopped a step above the twitching male, leaning down at the waist slightly so his smiling face was even with Toby’s.

“Damn Twitchy. Been here three weeks and still have all the shit jobs” the killer cackled in his raspy, damaged voice. Toby glared harder at the killer, ignoring the girl's struggles, but tightening his grip on her arm. “What the fuck do you want Jeff” Toby hissed, wanting so badly to drive one of his hatchets into that stupid smiling face. The killer just laughed, his unblinking eyes turning to the struggling girl, as if noticing her for the first time. 

His carved smile stretched wider as a natural one adorned his paper white lips, “what’s that faceless prick see in this jumpy little rabbit?” the killer rasped, running his finger along her jaw. She snatched her face back, a look of disgust entering her features. “Get the fuck away from me you fucking ugly freak!” she screeched flailing helplessly in Toby’s grip.

The Proxy didn’t notice the knife until it was slicing through the girl's throat like butter. Blood splattered Toby’s face, his eyes wide in shock and surprise, his grip loosened as the girl's limp body tumbled down the steps, a messy trail of blood following her decent. 

“ **_What the FUCK Rogers!_ ** ”, “ does every woman in your life end up dead! ”, “ **_You had one God damned job!_ ** ” the voices screamed as Toby curled the hand that was previously holding the girl, into a fist, and drove it into the cackling killers face. The Proxy, took a handful of burnt black locks and yanked the killer down, intending to throw him down the stairs but didn’t take in account the killer grabbing his jacket and pulling him down as well.

The two killers fell down the steps, one after another, biting, punching, kicking, stabbing, cursing. Toby felt his head connect with the edge of a step but paid it no mind, even when warm liquid coated his hair. “You mother fucker! She was my responsibility!” Toby screamed when they landed on the hardwood floor. “Well you should have made sure she watched her mouth” Jeff growled, slashing at the Proxy with his knife. 

“ **Good job idiot** ”, “ _ you let this prick beat you again _ ”, Toby hissed against the growing pain in his head from the voices screaming at him. “Y-you killed her, i-it’s your f-f-f-fault” Toby whispered darkly at the smiling killer, Jeff scoffed, “yeah, I killed her, but under your watch. It’s your fault” the killer pointed his blade at the the twitching teen. 

“ All your fault, you can’t do anything right ”, “ **_just like with Lyra, you fucked up and did nothing about it_ ** ”. “N-no, not t-t-t-this again. S-shut up, shut u-u-up!” Toby clutched his head, curling in on himself. “What happened?” he could faintly hear Masky demand, but he was to caught up in his own thoughts. The poor teen dug his blunt nails into his head, yanking at his hair, “I-I f-f-f-fucked up. A-all my fault” he mumbled.

Toby felt hands on his body, pulling at his hands, yanking at his hair. “Jeff, leave him alone!” the teen heard the other Proxy yell, but he didn’t care who was touching him, he just kept pulling his hands back and replaced them to his head. “Come on you little shit, look at me” he heard a raspy voice against his ear.

Arms wrapped around his torso, cold hands clutched his wrists and yanked at them hard, prying them from his head, he went to yank them back but one arm wrapped around them both, pinning them to his chest. The other hand grabbed his chin, forcing his head up. He felt a wide chest against his back, strong breaths making it rise and fall.

“Look at the bitch Twitchy”, Toby squeezed his eyes closed tighter. The teen felt something soft, warm and wet glide along his ear, the tip of the appendage dipping into his ear. His eyes shot open in surprise, his gazing automatically locking with the body lying in a puddle of blood. “You see that Twitchy. She’s dead, and it’s because of you” Jeff rasped into his ear, “y-you killed h-h-her” Toby contradicted in a whisper. Jeff cackled against Toby’s shoulder, “yeah, I did. But you brought her back to this shit hole. I just set her free” the killer replied.

‘Set her free?’ Toby thought to himself, “w-what do you m-m-m-mean?” The teen mumbled, leg jumping from where it was stretched out in front of him, shoe sitting at the edge of the blood puddle. “Death is a gift. A freedom. Someone would be fucking lucky to be dead, especially if they're killed by me” Jeff said his lips brushing Toby’s ear, slit cheek pressed against the Proxies. “That bitch just received a privilege million’s of people beg for. So don’t feel to bad about it”.

The voices were quiet for a moment as if they were contemplating the killer’s words just as the teen was. Toby supposed that Jeff had a point, a lot of people wished to die everyday, there lives were either a hell, pathetic, a waste. But he knew the girl didn’t want to die, she had begged him to let her go, let her run, let her be free. 

“ **_And you let her die_ ** ”. Toby shook his head, “I-I didn't m-m-m-mean to!” he screamed, “shhh, shush shush Twitchy. I know, I know” the killer whispered against his ear, his grip tightening around his body. Toby shivered at the feel of those leathery, pale lips against his skin.

“Jeff!” Toby felt the arms around him twitch a little in surprise before unwrapping themselves from his body. The chest that his back sat comfortably against moved away, leaving the Proxy oddly cold. “What the hell are you doing?”, the twitching teen could make out the gray skinned cannibal’s voice through his dazed thoughts.

The smiling killer let out a deep, broken chuckle. “Nothing at all, just having alittle fun” he replied to his eyeless lover, “what kind of fun?” Eyeless bit out, Toby almost smiled at the irritated undertone in his voice. 

“Why do you want to know?” Toby heard Jeff ask as Masky crouched beside him and helped him from the floor, “you jealous of the new fish?” the smiling killer asked, running his long bleach, burned, pinked patched fingers along the exposed skin of Eyeless’ neck. The cannibal snorted beneath his mask before moving it from the side and practically devouring Jeff’s lips with his own.

Toby couldn’t explain the slight ache he felt inside his chest at that moment, he made a mental note to get that checked out later.  _ “What is the meaning of this?”,  _ both Toby and Masky flinched at the sudden dominating presence that entered the foyer, and both turned to face there towering master like the loyal pawns they were. 

Toby curled his hands into fists at his sids, nails digging into his palms, “I-I….I f-failed sir” the twitching teen mumbled, looking down at the floor.  _ “That can obviously been seen Tobias”,  _ Toby flinched at the sound of his name, neck cracking as it jerked to the side. The natural overpowering aura the Slender creature seemed to portray, grew darker and more menacing, informing the Proxies he was not pleased.

_ “Come Proxy, you must face retribution for you failure”,  _ Toby could have swore Masky flinched at the words. “ **_Good job you fool_ ** ”, “ _ your job was so simple _ ”, “ **_pathetic_ ** ”, the voices acted up once again as Toby followed the Operator down the twisting halls of the mansion, disappearing from the sight of the three other males.

Masky stood still in his place, head still bowed until he was positive his Master was no longer occupying the recess’ of his mind at the moment. When he was sure, he turned to the two Pasta’s. Jeff had Eyeless pushed up against the wall, the cannibals legs wrapped around the killers waist, Jeff licking away the black liquid from his lovers cheeks.

Masky shook his head, a irritated look passing over his features beneath his mask. “I hope your happy Woods” the Proxy snapped, earning the killers attention. “I was, but you just ruined the moment” he rasped, releasing Eyeless from the wall. “You have no idea what you’ve caused” Masky growled, he didn’t really like the twitching teen, but he knew the suffrage of being punished by his master.

“So Twitchy’s gonna get a little discipline by the white faced twig. He can’t feel pain he’ll get over it” Jeff shrugged, cleaning his knife with his blood speckled hoodie. Masky let out an unamused laugh, shaking his head in disappointment, “you idiot, it’s true he can’t feel pain. So the Operator is going to fuck up his head, screw with his brain until he breaks, then put him back together just to do it again. Toby’s pain is emotional and mental, thing’s go on in his head that we don’t know about that haunt him every waking moment.” Masky emphasized.

Jeff showed no sign of caring, his mutilated, bleached features remained the same. Masky’s shoulder’s slumped, “physical wounds can heal, cuts become scabs that eventually go away. Mental wounds can’t be fixed, they sit and fester deep in our minds waiting to be triggered by the smallest things. You heard Toby screaming a while ago, I can only imagine the dark, demented, fucked up shit that hides in the corners of his mind” Masky said the last part more to himself then the killer, and he didn’t wait for a response he knew he wouldn’t receive.

The smiling killer’s eyes followed the Proxy disappear into one of the many rooms situated in the mansion. It was true that his face showed none of the churning emotions boiling in his head, but that didn't mean they weren't there. He stood there for a moment, staring down at the blood coated body of the girl he had killed, Toby had screamed, pretty fucking loud to, but he didn’t know at what the twitching teen had been screaming at. And to be honest, he didn’t think he wanted to know, he had his own fucked up problems.

“Let’s go, I’m frustrated and need you to fuck me” Eyeless spoke up, blunt as always. Jeff allowed the cannibal to pull him up the stairs, let Eyeless undress him and ride him for half the night, he was on autopilot for the most part. And as he lay in his shared bed, his arm being used as a pillow, unblinking eyes staring up at the ceiling, he listened to the faint screams that drifted from deep below his floor, knowing exactly who they belonged to considering he had heard it hours earlier.

His grey blue tinted eyes drifted to the cannibals grey skinned face, the black liquid ran lazily down his cheeks, small breaths passing his lips. Masky’s words echoed in his head, over and over again.

Jeff looked back up at the ceiling, thinking of a certain twitching Proxy, wondering what the fuck went wrong in his life to make him think of such things.

In the dark, he took in a deep and irritated breath and asked himself; “are you happy Woods?”


	7. Chapter 7

**~ Chapter 7 ~**

Toby held his head tightly between his hands. His eyes wide and shifting back and forth in the darkness. The voices whispered loudly in his brain, as he yanked at his hair. His knees were pulled up tight to his chest, chin resting on top of them as images of his sister filtered across his mind.

Her bloody corpse crushed between the seat and the steering wheel, glass embedded deeply in her skull, the dashboard compacted in on her legs, causing the skin to rip and shred from her splintered bones. Her face was turned to the teen, one eye staring wide at him, blood dripping down her cheeks like crimson tears. The other eye dangled from its socket by the nerve, leaving a gaping hole into her head.

“W-why Toby?” her broken inhuman voice asked the teen, ‘i-i’m s-s-s-s-sorry” Toby babbled out over and over again. The pitch blackness shifted around him then settled as Toby watched himself get beat by his own father, he could almost feel the hits he watched himself receive. “Stupid, useless fucking, twitching piece of shit!” his father screamed down at him with every hit.

His head pounded and ached as the dark tendrils of shadow clawed at his pale skin. “P-p-please, make i-it s-s-s-stop” Toby begged pulling at his hair as he bring down one of his hands to bite at his fingertips. The skin split and blood coated his tongue, his limbs twitched, cracked and popped uncontrollably. 

“Toby…”. The Proxy rocked himself back and forth, shaking his head vigorously. “My fault, all my fault” he mumbled to himself. His sister sat in his line of vision just….staring. 

“Toby!”. “ _ Pathetic _ ”, “Useless”,  _ Irresponsible _ ”. The Proxies neck cracked, as the voices ran through his head. He moved his teeth from his fingertips in exchange for the space below his thumb, gnawing at the skin until his chin was painted in red.

“TOBY!”. The blackness surrounding him dissipated in that instant, the shadowed claws retracted, his sisters corpse vanished. Leaving behind the plain white walls of his room. Sally stood before his trembling form, her large green eyes studying his sad display. “How are you feeling Toby?” she asked in that small, innocent voice she always had, tilting her head in a curious fashion. 

“I...I’m…” the voices were still going crazy in his head but, he did what he could to ignore them. “I-I’m f-f-fine Sally”, the Proxy swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his hands still twitching hysterically, “how l-long h-h-h-have I b-been he-re?”. Toby almost dreaded the answer. “Three days” the young girl replied, swaying back and forth on her feet, clutching her bear tightly to her chest.

Toby placed his head in his hands, he had figured as much, but hearing it outloud still made him worry. “Toby, your fingers are bleeding again” the small girl pointed out, taking the twitching teens hand into her smaller one. “You should clean it before it gets infected”, Toby pulled back his hand from the small girl, staring down at the exposed flesh. 

“I’m f-f-i-ne Sal” he said, giving her a small smile, he could tell she knew he was lying. “Just because you can’t feel the pain, doesn't mean you can’t get an infection” Sally stated matter factly, grabbing hold of the twitching males wrist and pulling him up from the bed with surprising ease, startling the Proxy just a little. 

“S-Sal!, I’m fi-ne h-h-h-honest” the Proxy protested as he was embarrassingly dragged from his room by the small child who didn’t seem to be letting him free any time soon. On there adventure down the hall, though Toby would more than likely call it a kidnapping, the duo passed Clockwork, who gave them a curious glance before snorting at seeing the predicament the Proxy was in.

Toby sent her a not so heated glare over his shoulder as he was pulled further down the hall. Clockwork had been slightly more tolerant of Toby’s annoying behaviour, the unspoken tortures of their past had left them feeling connected in a way that only those who shared the same likes and dislikes held. They both had scars left behind by their families that only they could see, only they could feel. Clockwork didn’t like Toby, Toby didn’t like Clockwork, but they tolerated each other, with a shared sense of understanding.

Insults were thrown, weapons often clashed, names cursed and spat. But never did they outright strive to harm the other, it was a silent but mutual agreement, both understood the hardships the other already suffered, they didn’t find the need to cause any more damage to the other by there own hands.

Sally continued her tugging, pulling the Proxy down three sets of stairs until they came to the fourth floor landing, and once again traveling down a hall lined with doors. Toby noticed after a few weeks of being in the mansion, and a thorough exploration of the ancient structure, there was an abundance of rooms for the small number of inhabitants within the house. On more than one occasion, the Proxy wondered if the house was created for the soul purpose of hiding deranged psychopaths, or if it was a simple convenience to the Operator who may have passed by the house on one of it’s strides through the dark forest.

Toby liked to believe it was the first, but found more humor in the latter. 

The Proxies neck cracked as he halted in front of a simple wood door, not much different from the others surrounding it, other then the fact it had ‘No Soliciting or Camera’s’ painted in big red letters with “no idiots either’ painted in blue in smaller letters beneath that on the front. The words made Toby scrunch his nose, he didn’t get the joke. 

Sally knocked on the door, her small hands sounding pitiful against the hardwood. But it got someone's attention if the loud thump and continuous string of curses where anything to go by. The door was opened by a dushelved Masky, who’s tan jacket was unzipped, the white t-shirt rumbled, he was breathing hard as he stared at the duo.

His attention was firstly drawn to the other Proxy, his blue eyes narrowing at the twitching teen from behind his mask, was doing nothing to hide his wild, unbrushed hair, Toby glared back at the male with just as much heat, wrist popping. 

“Hi Masky!” Sally spoke sweetly, staring up at the masked Proxy with a wide smile and bright eyes, “Toby needs some help with his fingers, can you help him?”. Masky looked down at the small girl, his eyes melting from there glare. “Why not take him to Eyeless Sal? I’m kinda busy” he huffed, running his hand through his already messy hair. “Eyeless and Toby aren't nice to each other! He Toby wouldn’t let him help!” the small girl pouted, fresh blood running down the side of her head, some soaking into her tangled brown locks, some dripping onto her dress.

“I don’t like Toby either, so he won’t let me help either kid” Masky replied shrugging, leaning against the door frame. Sally furrowed her brows and pursed her lips, before another smile graced her cheeks. “HOODIE!” she yelled into the room, trying to look around Masky’s body, only for the Proxy to move his side closer to the door frame and shut the door further into his other side. “It’s ok Masky, let them in” Toby could hear Hoodie’s muffled voice from from inside the room.

Masky looked over his shoulder before sighing and opening the door wide, exposing the room to the two outsiders. Toby took in the new territory, never being allowed in the room before, the twitching Proxy was taking in as much as he could. There was a single bed pushed up against the left wall, beneath a window that looked out over the surrounding forest. A desk sat beside the bed, multitasking as a nightstand and a space to pile random junk. Papers, trinkets, rocks, knives and a few guns littered its surface. A bookshelf took up most of the right wall, more papers took up most of the space, a video camera, laptop and cassette tapes also sat on the wood shelves. A t.v sat on a table in the corner, some comedy Toby forgot the name of played on the screen, the sound muted. The walls were bare save a few drawings that could be found tack to the trees and painted a light mud brown.

“How can we be of service?” Toby turned to the Proxy sitting on the bed. Hoodie had his masked face turned to them, bare feet sliding back and forth on the carpet, ungloved hands balled in the unmade bed sheets. “Toby messed up his fingers, can you fix them please?”. Hoodie nodded and patted the space he was just occupying as h stood from the bed. Reluctantly, after a stare down with a very persuasive little girl, Toby sat down on the bed with a pop of his neck.

Hoodie rummaged through one of the drawers in the desk until he pulled out a first aid kit, returning to the bed, the Proxy opened the white box and began tending to Toby’s hand. It was quiet for a long while, Sally had climbed onto the desk and sat swinging her legs back and forth while Masky sat in the desk chair, arms crossed looking as though his entire day just got ruined.

Taking the opportunity to both pass the time, and mess with Masky, Toby jumped to the first thought that had crossed his mind when the masked Proxy opened the door. 

“H-h-hey Masky. Wh-ats w-w-wrong, you loo-ok like you just g-g-g-got jipp-p-ped on some ra-a-lly gre-at age o-o-o-oled rhy-ryh-ryh-rythm” Hoodie paused in his examination of the twitching teens finger tips for a moment before returning to his work not saying a word. Sally on the other hand tilted her head in confusion, looking between the two. “What does that mean?” she asked in curiosity, but she was ignored by the three who didn’t feel like explaining the birds and the bees just yet. 

“Shut up Rodgers, i’m not in the mood for your bull shit” Masky snapped, “language” Hoodie mumbled while Toby burst out laughing. “B-b-b-bet you wh-wh-where in the mo-o-o-od earlier-er-er”. Listen you little bastard…”, Masky was cut off by Hoodie holding up a pale skinned hand, “Masky, why don’t you take Sally down stairs to the kitchen and get her something to eat, I think there’s still some cake in the fridge”. At the sound of the icing covered goodness, Sally slid from the desk and jumped up and down around Masky chanting “yes, yes, yes” in excitement.

Toby knew the white masked Proxy wanted to protest but, with a reluctant sigh, Masky scooped up the little girl and threw her over his shoulder. She dangled there giggling as the masked male carried her from the room and shut the door non to gently. “Do you have to patronize him?” Hoodie asked, picking up some rubbing alcohol and pouring a good portion over the chewed digits. Toby’s fingers twitched at the sensation, “h-h-he makes i-it ea-ea-easy”, the teen replied, shrugging his shoulders, neck popping.

“That still doesn't make it ok” Hoodie sighed beneath his mask, dabbing at the still bleeding finger tips with a cotton ball. “Were all on the same side you know. You know what you have to deal with on some sort of level, so try to be less of an ass to him alright”, Hoodie asked, coating gauze in antiseptic spray before beginning to wrap them around Toby’s fingers with expert ease.

“I dou-ou-oupt mi-mister perfe-fe-fe-fect ma-ma-made a-any mis-s-stakes” Toby muttered, neck popping as he thought over his three days of mental torture. Hoodie was silent for a moment, wrapping the twitching teens fingers even as they popped. “He…”, he paused and Toby tilted his head in curiosity, “once, he messed up once. It wasn’t pretty.”

“I c-call bullshi-i-it” Toby laughed, not believing that the guy who seems to kiss the Slenderman’s ass the most has managed to screw up something to the point of repremandment. “We were both on a mission, this was so long ago, it took a long time to complete, but during one of his outings, Masky was supposed to bring someone back”, Hoodie paused, either trying to remember what happened or not truly wanting to say, Toby wasn’t sure. 

“He was supposed to bring someone back, but instead he had his leg broken and returned empty handed. For about a month, I had to work both our outing shifts, and while I was doing that…” Hoodie finished wrapping Toby’s fingers and began packing the medical supplies back in the box, “Ti...Masky, was in almost a comatose like trance. I’d sit and watch him for hours as he stared off at nothing, not knowing what was going through his head, watching as he scratched away the skin on his arms and chewed away his fingernails until he didn’t have any left”. 

Hoodie left the bed and placed the kit back in it’s drawer.“When he finally came to he was almost delirious, and as a final punishment for his failure, the Operator had Jeff break his leg again, just to get the point across. Jeff had fun that day.” Hoodie said the last part with a sort of humorless snort. Toby stared at the other Proxy, unsure with what to say, “a-and have y-y-you ev-ev-ver…”, he trailed off. Hoodie chuckled at that, “to many times to count”. 

Toby looked down at his now bandaged hand, a small red stain already growing on the white material. Hoodie was good at this. “W-well th-th-thanks for th-this”, the twitching teen stood from the bed holding up his hand, Hoodie nodded once leaning back against the desk, watching the younger Proxy from beneath his mask. Toby nodded back, opening the door to leave before pausing.

“Hey, uh be-before me and S-S-Sal cam-m-m-me in. You and Ma-a-asky were defi-fi-fi-finalty about to fuc-c-ck right?”. Hoodie’s shoulders slumped slightly, and he lowered his head shaking it before looking back up at the smiling teen. 

“Get out Rodgers”. Toby shut the door behind him as he laughed his head off, leaning back against the door, the teen sighed. He still couldn’t believe that he had been out for three days, though he did suppose it was better than a month, and having his leg broken...twice. 

“Still “ he held his hands over his head, staring at the one bandaged, the other not. “I could be dead…”, “you should be dead”, “ **_why aren't you_ ** ”, “go find a damn bridge already”. Toby groaned and clutched his head. Of course they were still there, he just couldn’t catch a break.

Straightening from his slouched position against the door, Toby looked to his left, noticing the presence that had stopped moments before. His golden eyes narrowed at the sight of that familiar white, blood stained hoodie and carved smile.

Jeff stood there for a moment, staring back at the Proxy with those unblinking eyes before raising his hand from his hoodie pocket. For a moment, Toby almost thought he was going to wave, then the bastard flipped up his pale, pink patched middle finger laughing his manic laugh.

Toby ‘tsked’ before turning away. He wanted nothing to do with the smiling killer, screw that bastard and his stupid carved smile. Screw his dumb looking hair, and his stupid looking hoodie. Screw him in general, with his shit knife skills and his pretty eyes...wait what.

Toby didn’t even realize he was mumbling under his breath until he passed B.P who gave him a strange look. Huffing in frustration, Toby changed his decision of wandering around the Forest in favor of visiting the living. He needed a distraction, and what better distraction then a triple chocolate cake. 


	8. Chapter 8

**~ Chapter 8 ~**

__ Weeks pass and blurr into months, and Toby finally settled into his new position as Proxy to the Operator. He honestly couldn’t complain, he got food, a bed, his own room even a few individuals to talk to that wasn’t a little girl who didn’t understand the punch lines to sexual jokes. Not that he would tell Sally any sexual jokes of course.

He still found ways to annoy the hell out of everyone, finding it most pleasing to follow Masky around everywhere repeating his name in different pitches accompanied by the occasional onslaughts of pokes that drove the white mask wearer insane. Only twice has the twitching teen been close to losing his life to an enraged Masky, with a flustered Hoodie having to hold him back because anyone else present would just sit back and enjoy the show.

Toby had been on more missions since the incident with his last charge. These were nothing major, stalking mostly, a few involved him playing mind tricks on his charges, things like being seen at one moment, gone the next. Or, his personal favorites, leaving behind signs that he is watching them. He loved the scarred looks that overtook there faces when they realized he had been so close to them at one point or another. 

But his interaction with his victims were limited, the Operator wasn’t taking any chances it seemed, and Toby was getting restless, his blood lust was growing, making him more on edge. Making him twitch and stutter more often than before. The other occupants of the mansion were starting to complain about him more because of this, most just cursing at him everytime he knocked over a drink during a random spasm of his limbs, while a few threatened to cut him apart. He was willing to let them have a go if it meant he had a chance to swing his hatchets a few good times, maybe splatter some blood here and there. 

Toby seriously needed some action, and soon.

Currently, the Proxy was situated on a couch in one of the many living rooms dotted around the mansion. The television blaring a movie he already forgot the title of, though that didn’t much matter considering he was asleep. 

His chin was propped up by his hand, elbow on his knee as he sat cross legged on the couch. His mouth had slipped open at one point and drool dribbled down his lower lip and onto his jeans. Occasionally, his neck would twitch softly, disturbing the low snores escaping his throat, his arm would move at random intervals, moving across his lap from time to time. 

In his deep state of unconsciousness, the teen was blissfully unaware of a small, green eyed, brunette pulling his hair into sloppy pigtails and braids, while another gently drew across the skin of his cheeks and upper lip with a marker, leaving behind black ink in its wake. The older burnett sat back and admired her penmanship, the soft tick, tick, tick of the clock piece in her eye socket a calming rhythm that, unbenounced to her, kept the twitching teen in his comatose like state.

“He looks so cute!” Sally exclaimed in a high pitched whisper, Clockwork was quick to shush her but nodded nonetheless to appease the happy child. The two females took their time watching the teen sleep, it was quite amusing they both had to admit. With his hair pulled up in all sorts of directions, marker all over his face, the way he would twitch and mumble in his sleep had them both trying to hold back bursts of laughter.

As they bite their lips while listening to Toby mumble something about waffles, a certain white hoodie killer stomped his way down the stairs. 

“Stupid fucker, telling me what I can and can’t do. Little bitch, it was my fucking room first…” he cursed under his breath as he walked down the hall, hands stuffed in the pocket of his blood stained hoodie. This wouldn’t be the first time the smiling murder stormed his way around the mansion, muttering almost incoherent ramblings about who knew what. Most of the time it was about Eyeless.

The two killers where constantly bickering, cursing each others names, threatening to kill the other in unimaginable ways, ways that where technically impossible, or even ways that haven't been invented yet. The other mansion residents got used to it after a while, knowing after a few yelling fits, a few fist fights, the occasional knife to scalpel grapple, the two would be back at each other’s bodies by the end of the night. There relationship, or whatever the hell it was, was in no way healthy, but the other Pasta’s and Proxies expected as much, having any sort of relationship with a psychotic killer was unhealthy, any normal person would understand that, but that’s were there flaws lied. None of them were all that normal, at least, not any more.

Jeff clutched the knife in his pocket, the pale patched skin of his knuckles whitening even more to the point, bone was almost visible. “One of these fucking days, i’ll take that little grey neck of his and fucking slit it” he rasped, walking the dark hall, passing the living room blaring the god awful movie he heard from up stairs, catching a glimpse of Clockwork and Sally. 

The killer paused, “the fuck did I just see”, back tracking, the killer stuck his head into the room, noticing the mass sitting on the couch, there hair strewn up in all directions, neck popping, arm jumping. His carved smile widened when he recognized the newest Proxy.

Jeff had gotten quite fond of harassing the poor teen whenever he had the chance. Picking fights and starting arguments over the stupidest things. He would never admit it out loud, but he enjoyed seeing the Proxy get all riled up, there fight in the woods left the killer craving more. More bloodshed, more interaction with the twitching teen. 

The killer made his way into the living room, the two females smiling at the sleeping teen suddenly losing their gleeful looks at the sight of the ever smiling psychopath. “Need something Woods?” Clockwork snapped as she eyed Jeff while he made his way around the couch. Tilting his head, the killer examined the Proxy, taking in the ink, the hair, the twitching.

Reaching over, he snatched the marker from Clockworks hand, shoving her away by a hand to her face, “fucker” she hissed as Jeff crouched down and uncapped the marker, throwing a “bitch” in her direction. Sticking his tongue out the right slit on his cheek, the killer concentrate on keeping the marker light as to not wake the sleeping teen. Once finished, the killer sat back on his heels, chuckling and throwing the marker over his shoulder.

“Insert Here? What are you supposed to insert?” Sally whispered, looking at the arrow that pointed towards the Proxies mouth. Not even Clockwork could keep in the snort that slipped, no matter how hard she tried. “Nothing kid”, the killer rasped, placing one hand on top of Sally’s head, while using the other to slap the Proxies hand from under his chin.

Toby jerked awake as his head fell low enough he hit his head on his knee. His blurry, sleep muddled eyes looked around in confusion, squinting against the light of the ceiling fan above his head. He blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before squinting at the figures in front of him.

“W-what the hell? S-S-Sally what ar-are you-u-u…” he trailed off when he noticed Clockwork and….Jeff, the bastard, both sitting in front of him as well as the little girl. “What are you guys doing here?” he snapped, glaring daggers at the smiling killer. “We were watching you sleep Twitchy” Clockwork chimed in, leaning back on one hand while placing the other on her raised knee. “Why?”, the Proxy wasn’t gonna lie, he didn’t trust a single one of them at the moment, Sally included. 

“Well we….um….” Clockwork trailed off, not able to come up with a quick excuse. “Your cute in your sleep”. Clockwork snorted once again, while Toby’s eyes widened, “According to this kid” Jeff stated quickly, motioning to Sally who sat unfazed by the killers previous comment. She had in fact said he was cute, but she didn’t take into account that the killer wasn’t in the room when she said it.

“O-o-oh, um...yeah su-sure”, Toby mumbled, beginning to run his hands through his hair, only to be halted by the slight tugging. Patting his head, the Proxy pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the three, as he began pulling hair clips from his hair, “Sally” he started, the little girl just giggling and hurrying up from her crossed legged position on the floor, bolting from the room.

“Little brat” Toby muttered as he got up from the couch to chase the girl, unaware of the artwork taking up his face. “Get back here you little monster!” Toby yelled down the hall, following the glimpses of pink as it disappeared around a corner. Toby followed, only to be met with an empty corridor, “no fair you cheat!”. 

Toby huffed, Sally always cheated when it came to games, he could never win, not once. She was ruthless. “Oi, you shouldn't run in the house. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”, Toby turned his golden eyes skyward, meeting a glowing pair above him. The Puppeteer made his way down to the Proxy, sitting on one of his strings, the glowing strand acting as support.

“U-uh, hey. Um..y-y-you wouldn-n-n-n-n’t have hap-p-p-pened to se-see Sally run through he-here did you?”, The puppet master always made the teen nervous since the day he met him, Toby wasn’t sure if it was the glowing eyes, the hollowness in his tone, or the way he controlled his victims to play with to his every whim. 

“Maybe I did, Maybe I didn’t. What’s in it for….” he paused, tilting his head and squinting. For a moment both were silent, but with a sudden jerk, the puppet master buried his pointer and middle fingers in the teens mouth. Toby jerked back, slapping away the other males gray toned hand, spitting and cursing as he tried to wipe the taste of Pup’s fingers from his tongue.

“What the fuck was that?!” the Proxy yelled, glaring at the now hysterically laughing puppet master. “Just doin’ what it says mate!” Pup howled, falling backwards of his string just to stay put in mid air as he laughed uncontrollably. Toby cursed as he walked around the other male, continuing his search for Sally, still wiping away the taste in his mouth.

By the time he made it to the main living room on the first floor of the mansion, Toby has had a paint brush, a lollipop, a wii remote, two more pairs of fingers and a knife handle shoved into his mouth. He found Sally watching t.v on the couch, green eyes glued to the screen, he walked past her and flicked her head, a stuck out tongue was all he received in return. 

Groaning he slumped his way into the kitchen, head tilted downward, taking a seat at the large island, he let his head fall on the marble surface. “Long day Rogers?” Masky asked, flipping the bread over onto his newly made sandwich, Toby replied with a long drawn out groan, lifting his head to look at his fellow Proxies.

The two masked males stared at the teen, eyes roaming his face. Out the corner of his eye, Masky saw the chopsticks Hoodie was using to eat his salad (just because he could), and faced his friend, “don’t you dare”. Hoodie looked over at Masky for a moment before his shoulders fell, a small pout forming on his lips from were they could be seen from his pulled up mask. But as soon as Masky turned away, Hoodie leaned over the table and slipped his chopsticks passed Toby’s lips. “Your such a fucking child” Masky cursed biting into his sandwich.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people! Everyone has been shoving shit in my mouth since I woke up!” Toby bitched as he yanked back his head, he paused. His eyes narrowed as he leapt off the island stool and stalked over to the counter.

Picking up the toaster, the twitching teen held the reflective surface up close to his face, just enough so he could make out the words and doodles drawn all over his skin. “Son of a bitch” he cursed loudly, tossing down the toaster and turning on the sink. He scrubbed at his face, doing what he could to remove the permanent ink. 

“Honestly not surprised it took you that long to realise you has shit all over your face” Masky piped up, finishing off his lunch. “Shut up bastard” Toby snapped back, scrubbing harder at his cheek. “Wiping off my art already Twitchy?”.

The teen turned at the sound of the raspy voice, staring daggers at the smiling killer as he made his way over to the fridge. “Should have know it was you mother fucker” Toby growled, watching Jeff rumage in the stainless steel fridge until he found a yogurt cup, popping it open with a shrug.

“Surprised you didn’t as soon as you saw it” the killer chuckled, swiping a glob of yogurt up on his finger and sticking it in his mouth, he grimaced, at least Toby thought that's what he did, and threw the cup on the counter. 

“Just wait bitch, i’ll get my revenge, and you’ll get what you deserve” Toby threatened, stalking up to the killer. The carved smile stretched further up the killers cheeks as a natural one split his lips. Jeff grabbed a hold of Toby’s face, squeezing his cheeks together until his lips puckered, Toby pulled and scratched at the killers fingers, trying to get the hold off his face.

“Keep talking to me like that Twitchy, and i’ll be inserting my dick in the smart little mouth of yours” Jeff threatened darkly, low enough that only the teen could hear. Jeff released Toby’s face and turned away, making his way to the leave the kitchen. Toby was breathing hard, eyes wide, mouth open in shock.

Did he just get threatened to have a dick shoved down his throat? Was that an actual threat? What the hell was Jeff thinking? “ _ Don’t pretend you wouldn’t want it _ ” a voice whispered in the back of his mind, “ _ you know your a stupid little cum slut _ ”. Toby’s neck popped, and the underside of his eyelid twitched.

He reached over the counter and grabbed the yogurt cup. “Don’t do it Rodgers!” Masky warned, but it was too late. The cup soared across the kitchen and hit its target square on, splattering pink tinted yogurt all over burnt black locks and blood stained white fabric. 

Jeff halted in his steps, slowly turning to stare at the Proxy over his shoulder, his already lidless eyes growing darker in almost unbridled anger. Toby wasn’t showing in sort of calm either.

“Say that again you twisted son of a bitch”.


	9. Chapter 9

**~ Chapter 9 ~**

Toby felt his back collide with the edge of the marble counter top, the corner digging into his spine. Jeff pressed all of his weight down on the twitching Proxy as he pressed his knife closer to Toby’s throat. The two killers snapped and snarled at each other like wild animals fighting over the last piece of bloodied flesh left over from a kill.

Jeff’s knife freehand shot forward, tangling in the Proxies brown locks holding tight. The smiling killer slammed Toby’s head into the counter top over and over and over again, watching as blood began to smear the marble. Toby could feel his skull crack against the hard surface with every slam, his body jerking from the inner damage being caused. 

The Proxy pushed harshly against the killers weight, chewed nails digging into the white, stained fabric of his hoodie. “Come on Twitchy, show me a good time…” Jeff rasped low, voice scratchy like sandpaper, mixed with a gallon of blood lust. “You talk a lot you know, have a big mouth. What else can you use it for?”.

Toby nearly lost his hold on the killer, risking the knife that was precariously close to his neck to sink into his throat, when he felt Jeff’s tongue run along the seam of his lips, up his cheek, to his ear, “if you weren't about to die…” Jeff whispered harshly into his ear, “i’d fuck it”. Hazel eyes, widened, body tensing even more. “Fucking bastard!” Toby growled, jerking his head so the hand clutching his hair slipped.

Toby sank his teeth into the white patched skin as the killers fingers came in chomping distance of his mouth. Jeff let out a pained yell, ripping his hand away from the Proxy, the action leaving Toby enough time and space to slam his knee into the killers gut. Jeff doubled over slightly, Toby braced his forearms on the marble counter top, using the surface as momentum to lift himself and slam both his feet squarely into the killers chest.

“Should we stop them?” Hoodie asked, tilting his head while he watched the brawl, steadily finishing off his salad. Masky stood beside his friend, observing the fight with just as much interest, arms crossed, eyes looking on dually. “We’re on our lunch break remember” he replied, leaning back against the kitchen sink snorting as Jeff slammed into the opposite counters, head cracking against the wood cabinets.

The air left the killers lungs as his body made contact with the cabinets, head throbbing from the impact. He watched as the twitching teen stumbled forward after straightening from his position bent over the counter top. A position Jeff didn’t find to unpleasing. The Proxy shook his head, blinking a few times before focusing his gaze on the killer. Jeff noticed the way his hazel eyes darkened with anger, hatred, bloodlust. His carved smile widened as his original split his lips, he loved that look already.

Toby staggered towards the killer, his body already reacting to his brain rattling against his skull, he almost fell twice before he managed to fall to his knees at Jeff’s slouched, smiling form and land a punch to his carved cheek. Jeff’s head snapped backwards, once again connecting with the cabinets, the killer let loose a crazed laugh, even when Toby continued to punch him, the punches held no true strength. The blood spilling from the back of Toby’s head was leaving his body weaker and weaker by the second.

Jeff wasn’t faring any better. The back of his head wasn’t bleeding but fuck was it throbbing, unlike Toby, pain didn’t evade him. “F-fucking bastard, always...a-always…”, the twitching teens assaults were futile, his body had no more energy, “damn it” he grumbled, slumping forward until he was partially draped over the killer.

Shoving the trembling Proxy from his stomach, Jeff managed to throw Toby onto his back, so he could straddle the Proxy’s waist, his long, white, pink, burnt patched fingers wrapping around his pale throat. The killers lidless eyes were unfocused, black haze forming on the edges of his vision, his grip tightening on the teens neck. Toby’s shaking hands gripped his white fabriced wrists, unexpectedly pressing the killers hands harder against his throat. 

“P-please”, he whispered at least that’s what the killer thought he heard. Toby’s eyelids fluttered, his traitorous body finally giving out on him. His hands slipped from Jeff’s wrists and thudded against the floor. 

Jeff’s blunt fingernails dug into the soft skin of the Proxies neck, the strands of soft brown hair that tickled the back of Toby’s neck brushing his fingertips. The killer could feel himself swaying from his position on top of the teen, his gaze studying the soft lashes that kissed the top of Proxies cheek bones, the small twitches his body produced in his unconscious state. He liked this Proxy, he really did.

Releasing Toby’s throat, Jeff slumped completely on the Proxy, larger body covering the smaller. His head fell against the Proxies shoulder, lips parted, breath fanning against his cool skin. Jeff took a deep whiff of Toby’s scent, the smell of pine needles, laundry detergent and the ever present underlying smell of blood flooded his senses. His bleached, scarred lips parted, his tongue traveling lazily against the Proxies cheek, tasting the soft flesh before replacing the appendage back in his mouth.

“Night night twitchy” the killer whispered huskily before his pupils dimmed in the telltale signs of unconsciousness. The two killers laid sandwiched on the floor, blood smeared and weapons lodged around them from the scuffle they took part in. The small crowd that had gathered in the doorway of the kitchen stood in silent study, thoughts of different levels traveled through each one’s mind. Most verging on the very inappropriate.

“Well would ya’ look at that” The Puppeteer broke the silence, observing the damage that had been done to the kitchen appliances and the two killers sprawled on the floor. The marble counter was chipped, the fridge was riddled with knife holes and hatchet gashes, the cabinets hung off he hinges. It was a surprise there was no fire. “Guess you got yourself some competition, eh Eyeless?”.

All eyes turned to the blue masked Pasta, who took in the scene before him with relative nonchalance. Hands stuffed in his sweatshirt pocket, mask tilted slightly in concentration. No One noticed the ay his gray toned knuckles turned lighter as he gripped his scalpel tightly, or the way black ooze began to drip faster from his empty eye sockets in anger. There were many things he could handle, screaming victims, the smell of rotting flesh, the idiots that he was forced to interact with day after day. Hell even the stupid mutt that followed at Jeff’s hills every now and again, messing with his time with the killer was bearable.

But this, this stupid, twitching, stuttering, worthless, pathetic excuse of a Proxy really pissed him off. Toby was fucking with everything, disturbed the tranquil space that hadn’t changed since the blue masked Pasta had joined the mansion. Messed with the residence of the house when usually everyone left everyone alone unless under extreme circumstances, and most importantly, the little bastard was drawing away Jeff’s attention.

Eyeless had noticed the way Jeff strove to piss off the Proxy where before, the killer wouldn’t bother going out of his way to fuck with anyone unless he was in desperate need of a fight. The eyeless cannibal hated the way Jeff’s lidless eyes would follow Toby when he was near, the way they filled with a spark of excitement or childish mischief. He was never looked at in that way. 

“Jealous?”, Eyeless snapped his head to hid right, Jane staring at him from beneath her mask. Eyeless ‘tsked’, “of what. That annoying piece of shit? I’m just surprised Jeff hasn’t gutted him yet” he growled. Pup laughed loud and hearty from his left, lowering himself from the ceiling to lean against Bloody Painter’s shoulder, “come on mate, yer’ obviously devastated. What’s wrong, realize your boy found a fresher piece of meet to fuck?” he howled with laughter, B.P shoving him away as Eyeless turned and shoved his way through the crowd of gathered Pasta’s and Proxies. 

He wasn’t fucking jealous. Why would he be jealous of a that little fucker, Jeff was just playing with him, playing one of his idiotic games that he loved so much. “He’s going to kill him, he’ll do it soon” the eyeless cannibal muttered to himself as he stomped his way up the stairs. “He’ll kill him…”, he clutched his scalpel tighter.

“Or I will”. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: TRIGGER WARNING! MENTION OF SELF HARM AND SUGGESTED SUICIDE! PLEASE IF THIS CAUSES ANY DISCOMFORT DO NOT HURT YOURSELF BY READING!

**~ Chapter 10 ~**

Weeks pass. There slow and annoying for Toby. Filled with continuous observation over his healing body, even though he couldn't feel a thing. 

Sally, and occasionally Clockwork, would pester him to get the cut on the back of his head checked. It hadn't required stitches, something the teen was surprised about. But it would leave behind a nasty scar, he already knew that. Another scare he could add to his collection.

When he was free from the rampaging women, he would hide himself away from prying eyes, locked in his room shirt thrown haphazardly somewhere on his floor, reflection staring prominently back at him from the mirror that hung against his wall. It was from floor to halfway to the ceiling, the corner glass was cracked, (from an incident involving Toby’s curiosity with being able to cartwheel. It had failed.), spider webbing upwards to the center, leaving the Proxies reflection distorted and broken. 

But Toby could see all that he needed to.

Scars decorated almost every inch of his pale skin. Some newer than others. Most were from years he spent as a punching bag, or one’s he managed to get without realizing it until they became infected. He could remember each one, when he got them, why and with what they were created with. The one that ran from his left pec over his shoulder onto his shoulder blade was made by his father, he had used a belt, over and over and over again.

On his right bicep, faint white lines in four parallel streaks ran the length of his arm. A memory from his middle school days when one of his many bullies had stabbed him with a fork to see if the twitching teen really was immune to pain. The criss crossing marks that took up Toby’s sides, along his ribs, were self inflicted. The Proxy wanted to see how far he could cut until he felt something, anything, any possible pain that could have let him feel at least somewhat human.

Then, there was the  _ other  _ ones. The ones that made the poor teen turn his head away in disgust, the ones that made his fists ball tightly at his sides, teeth clench so tight, the bones creaked under the pressure. 

“ ** _Disgusting”._** _“Horrible”._ **“It’s all your fault, you bastard”.** The voices in his head rang with the memories. The noise causing a headache to grow in his temples. “ ** _Don't turn away, you pathetic bastard_** ”, “ _look at what you've made yourself become!_ ”. Toby shook his head violently, refusing to appease the voices, turning his back to the mirror. “ **You have only yourself to blame!** ”.

“S-shut up”, he muttered the words into the open air of his room, hand hiding the pained expression on his face. “ _ You could have said her _ ”, “ **You let her die** ”, “ You let them all die ”, “ **_You deserve every mark on your flesh!_ ** ”. 

“SHUT UP!” 

Toby's fist collided with what was left of his mirror, the already broken glass, shattering in hundreds of smaller pieces, littering the floor around the twitching teens feet. Toby stood staring wide eyed at what was left of his reflection, the stricken, golden gaze of self hatred and regret stared back at him from a single l, jagged piece of glass that still clung to the mirrors interior.

He was shaking, every bone in his body rattled like he was standing in the middle of an earthquake. Blood dripped from his knuckles, splattering against the glass and carpet beneath his feet. Pulling back his hand, Toby examined the damage he caused this time. 

Small shards were embedded deep in the skin, blood welling up around the corners. Toby scowled down at the wound, what he wouldn't give to feel something. Anything.

With a sigh, the twitching Proxy made his way across his room, not bothering to dodge the glass, and rummaged through his drawers for a first aid kit. Hoodie had finally got him his own after Sally had dragged the poor teen back to the other Proxies shared room a dozen more times.

Toby got to work digging the shards from his knuckles, carefully cleaning and disinfecting the wound as he was taught and reminded multiple times to do. By the end of his self med cleanup, his hand was nicely bandaged all things considering. 

Toby ran his non bandaged hand threw his hair, his life went to hell in a hand basket quicker then he thought was possible. Nothing seemed real at this point. It was all like one fucked up dream that didn't seem to want to end. 

“ _ Then do something about it _ ”, “ **stop being a fucking coward** ”, “ just go to the roof and jump already ”. 

Toby let out a shuddering sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, lip trembling, finger clutching his hair in a vice grip. He rocked back and forth on the edge of his bed,shaking his head ‘no’ as the voices went on and on about how he should just end it all. 

“ **_Not even Jeff could kill you. Because he realized just how pathetic you were!_ ** ”. The lamp that had been sitting on the bedside table smashed against the opposite wall. Toby's golden gaze was wide and unsecured tears glassed over their glow. 

“Yo Toby! You gotta minute?”. The twitching Proxies eyes cut towards the door as a fist pounded in the other side. Who the fuck was bothering g him now. Scrambling around his glass and dirty clothes littered floor. Toby threw on a decent smelling black shirt, before yanking open his door.

“What?”. BEN was taken back by the sudden snap, not used to seeing Toby so rumbled. Not that he hadn't seen the proxy get angry before, it was just the longer Toby stayed at the mansion, the more childish and care free he became. So seeing the teen glaring heatedly threw the Link imposter off a little. 

Quickly shaking off the surprise, BEN plastered on a large smile, teeth not as sharp and eyes no long bleeding as they were the first time Toby had seen him. “So, I...borrowed these from Rouge’s room yesterday and was wondering if you wanted to hang out for a bit?”.

Toby looked down at the drowned victims outstretched hand, taking in the five white rolled blunts and raising a light brown eyebrow. “B-borrowed?” he questioned, BEN shrugged, ‘innocent’ smile falling from his lips. “I let her borrow one of my games and she hasn't given it back, so I took something of hers. Thought these would be fun so, here I am”.

The Proxy contemplated his options, he never smoked before, never smoked anything. His father did, so Toby made it his goal to avoid cigarettes. Bet marijuana was different..right?. “ _ Coward _ ”. 

The twitching teen, scowled, stepping from his room and slamming the door closed. “So were a-are we doing thi-i-is?”. A real smile split across BEN’s cheeks, falling into step beside Toby, “the roof is usually free”. Toby ‘hmed’, the previous one sided conversation between himself and the voices coming back to the surface of his mind. 

“S-so, why did you ch-ch-choose me?”, BEN glanced over at the teen. He could mention how Toby had seemed off lately, or how he had noticed Masky and The Slenderman had been running the poor teen ragged since his fall out with Jeff. Or how the dark circles beneath the teens eyelids had grown two shades darker, or that he had heard Toby yelling at himself and shattering glass. But he didn't. BEN, like all the other killers of the mansion,did not show compassion.

Instead, he just shrugged a green clad shoulder. “All the other bastards around here are snitches. Besides, I want to see you high as fuck”. Toby let out a small laugh at that, some of the tension in his shoulders lessening. 

This should be fun.


	11. Chapter 11

**~ Chapter 11 ~**

Toby bit his lip, doing his best to hold in the giggle that threatened to spill from his mouth as the sky spun above him. 

The twitching teen felt as though he could touch the sky, glide his hands right through the clouds. He felt so light, so free, as high as the trees (no pun intended) yet still grounded to the roof shingles he was perched on. 

“Nice ain’t it” BEN mumbled from his left, green glad body sprawled out on the shingles, half smoked roll up pinched between his fingers. Toby hummed, falling onto his back as well, taking another hit. He honestly didn’t expect a reaction as fast as the one he got, he was still working through his first. Even so, he didn’t care, it was nice to relax for a little while, the voices were silent, his limbs motionless for longer bouts of time then they usually were. This was nice.

Toby's head rolled to the side, golden gaze squinting at the figure on the other side of the roof. Their body a patchwork of black and white. For a long moment, Toby was baffled, weren't bones supposed to be inside the body?

“Who’s th-that?”, the twitching teen mumbled. Minutes ticked by, the Proxy finishing off his hit, a content sigh leaving his lips with the smoke, before BEN finally spoke up.

“Hobo Heart. That's what he goes by anyway. He comes and goes, no one sees him very often”, Toby watched as the white haired individual stared out into the Forest beyond, a blank look inhabiting his glassy, grey eyes. “W-what’s up with hi-hi-him?”.

BEN let out a deep sigh. His high already fading, starting to fade away. “I don't know. He tore out his heart and not gave it to his girlfriend I think, she fucked him over so he tore out hers, now he collects them or some shit, I don't ask”. The link impersonator made sure to emphasize that fact. Toby didn't seem to get that. 

“W-what about you-u-u?”. BEN threw his hands over his face, groaning at the teens' continuous questioning. Slapping the space beside him, the green clad male picked up his second blunt, lighting it quickly and taking a deep breath. He exhaled slowly, letting the white smoke swirl into the breeze.

“I played video games a lot, dad liked to drink, went to the lake one day, dad drowned me. End of story.” no amount of weed could make him feel any less tense about his story. He still had nightmares of sophisticating beneath meters of churning waters, liquid filling his lungs, sight fading into black. BEN let loose an involuntary shudder. 

“How di-id you en-d up here?”. BEN could feel his brain getting numb, the fumes giving him that familiar, weightless sensation, making his tongue a tad bit looser. 

“I got tired of being lonely”.

Toby examined the far off look that suddenly crossed the drowned victims features. He knew that feeling, the feeling I'd being empty, lost, alone. Having no one there to keep you grounded, to keep you sane. It was a torture all its own. 

Shaking himself from his self destructive thoughts, BEN turned his reddening gaze to the proxy, devilish smile gracing his lips. “Now I have a question”.

Toby waved his hand for the link imposer to continue as he grabbed one of the remaining two rolls, lighting it even as BEN claimed it would put him on his ass. “Alright mister big shot. When are you and Jeff going to fuck?”

Was it possible for smoke to travel down into ones stomach? Toby wasn't sure,even as he struggled to breath, puffs of white exiting his mouth with each harsh cough he mustered. Pounding his chest, the teen turned his tear brimmed, blood shot eyes to the laughing link imposer.

“What the fuck!” Toby choked out between fits of shuddering breaths, eyes watering. “No no, not ‘what the fuck’, it’s ‘who to fuck’”. BEN stated matter factly, enjoying the sight of the gasping Proxy. Toby took in as much breath as he could get to his lungs, contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to kill the Link impersonator. 

“Why the hell would I want to screw that fucker!” the twitching Proxy growled, glaring at the drowned victim who only smiled even wider. “Oh please, stop acting like blushing virgin. I know you want one of you to fuck the others brains out, and don't try to deny it”. 

Toby turned away with an irritated ‘tsk’, neck popping as he realized he couldn't look BEN in the eye. “Wait.”, BEN stared hard at the proxy, mouth falling open on realization. “Dude! Your a fucking virgin!”.

Toby shoved the Pasta away, muttering under his breath about stupid, pestering elves. “Like you aren't o-one either”. BEN cackled, “technically, I'm dead so it doesn't count” he crowed smearing the blood that leaked from his eyes as he laughed harder. 

“Fu-ck off”. Toby took a deep drag from the blunt on his hand, already feeling the effects of a second round entering his system. 

“It's fine you know. No one I'd going to give two shits whether you fuck that bastard or not” BEN chimed in after a while, staring out into the Forest. Toby didn’t answer, the drugs intoxicating his senses drowned out the other males words, and the thundering thoughts of pale skin against fired scorched flesh.

Toby didn't want to allow himself that sort of thinking, nothing good ever came if it. He used to get worse beatings for those kinds if thoughts. And It wasn’t because he thought the others would attack him for it, it was simply the fact that old habits die hard. And Toby's old habit of keeping his wants and desires inside, didn't seem to be getting any weaker. 

Not to mention, he really, really, really hated Jeff.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: graphic depictions of murder! and mentions of uses of marijuana.

**~ Chapter 12 ~**

Toby wandered aimlessly around the Forest, thoughts hazy, steps uneven, eyes unfocused. His blood felt sluggish as it pulsed through his veins, he probably shouldn't have smoked that second blunt.

He leaned heavily against a tree, feeling as though the world was spinning every time he closed his eyes. He had left BEN behind on the roof, to many confusing and unwanted thoughts floating around in his head. The twitching teen needed the alone time, needed to get his priorities straight. 

The possibility was just absurd. The thought that he and Jeff...that they could...that they would ever...do….Toby shook his head, he didn't need those thoughts in his head. “Begone evil demons. Crawl back into the holes from wince you came ”, he mumbled to himself, pushing off of the tree and continuing deep into the Forest.

Nothing felt right anymore. It was all just like one big blur. The tree’s , the sky, the ground. Everything felt to unreal. Was there really a point in all this? Toby didn’t know, he wasn’t positive on where he stood anymore, where he was supposed to stand. It was like the rock in which his being was placed, was crumbling beneath his feet, like ash blazing away in a heap of hellish fire.

Maybe it was the weed. Or it may have been Toby’s own self decrepitating soul that made the Proxy feel as though his entire self was caroding in his hands, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. Hell, it could have been other all at once he didn’t know, but he was positive that he would never smoke another blunt for as long as he lived. 

The longer he walked through the trees, the more the silence cleared his head. His thoughts soothing out to a dull thrum, normal paced twitches returning to his limbs. Hunger returning to his stomach. The Proxy wondered if there was any pizzas back at the mansion.

A low snap had the Proxy whipping around in an instant, hand flying to his hip to clutch one of the hatchets that always rested there. His senses were still slightly dulled, but they bristled nonetheless, warning the male of another presence that was not his own. 

In truth, the Proxy didn't have much to fear not that he was one of the Operators Proxies. The Rake left him be since their brawl so long ago, and the rumored creature that he was warned about that roamed the trees had never made its presence known. Toby had been told it was Eyeless’ pet, so he didn't particularly want to have the chance to meet it.

The tenseness in his shoulders subsided slightly when Masky wandered out from the deep underbrush, quiet laughter leaving him as Hoodie followed close behind. Toby isn't sure he ever heard Masky sound so happy about….anything. 

The two new Proxies paused in their amusements when they caught sight of Toby. “H-hey guys, what's up?”, there was a short pause that left the teen feeling slightly awkward, before the other two males snorted and burst into a series of manic laughter.

“Just went out on the normal grab and go, you know how it is” Hoodie started, waving a gloved hand in dismissal of why he and Masky were gone. “Operator decided he didn't want the guy, so we dragged his ass out here and told him to start running” Masky finished for his friend as the hooded Proxy laughed once again.

Toby perked up at the new information, so there was a random person running frantic in the Forest somewhere, he wondered if they would bump into each other. 

“S-so you guys tr-tracking him down o-o-or something-g?” the twitching Proxy asked. “Nope, we're heading back to the mansion to get some food, I'm starving” Masky declared finally composing himself from his earlier amusement. Toby’s neck popped as his confusion grew, was the guy already dead? Or…

“What Masky was supposed to say, is that there are a few others in the Forest as well. They all joined in on the hunt. Sally, B.P, Rouge and Eyeless are all out here somewhere”, Hoodie clarified once he noticed the twitching teens confused expression. Golden eyes widened as a smile split across Toby's cheeks, a look of excitement and blood lust beginning to swim in the green/gold pools. 

“Is this shit a free for all or is there a sign up sheet?” the Proxy was almost bouncing in place at the moment, deciding that he would hunt for this reject whether he was allowed to or not. Masky waved a hand at him lazily, to hungry to give a damn anymore. “Knock yourself out kid”.

Seeming to rival the smiling killer himself, Toby's smile grows wider, fingers wrapping tightly around his hatchets. He turns from the two Proxies with a “see ya later”, only to pause and glance over his shoulder. “Wait, h-how old ar-ar-are you guys anyw-way?”, he didn't particularly like the idea of Masky calling him a kid. 

“None of your business you nosy bastard” Masky shot back, already turning his back on the teen. Toby opened his mouth to retort with something just as rude and annoying, but the sudden outburst of voices reminding him of the free kill, had him snapping his mouth closed and heading deeper into the trees.

Hoodie watched as Toby disappeared into the underbrush, wondering what it would be like to observe the younger Proxies killing style. But the growling in his stomach had him turning and hurrying to catch up with with his lifelong friend. 

“Didn't you forget to mention something g earlier?” Masky suddenly declared, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his tan jacket. Hoodie glanced over at the older male, unsure of what Masky was talking about, until it suddenly came back to him like a shit ton of bricks dropping on his face. 

“Oh shit”.

Hoodie paused in his steady pace, contemplating whether or not to run after the younger Proxy. “Eh, he’ll be fine” he stated after a while, once again heading back towards the mansion. “Your such a fucking sadist” Masky chuckled, shaking his head as he followed his friend. Hoodie looked over his shoulder at the white masked Proxy, “we both know that’s the other way around Tim”, his voice was low and hinting at events that had Masky’s fingertips twitching almost as bad as Toby’s.

“And besides…” Hoodie declared , suddenly turning forward as though he didn’t just give his lifelong friend a boner. “Toby can handle himself, he was born to be a killer”. Masky sighed before pulling out a pack of cigarettes, not so sure about his friends optimism but not disagreeing. 

“And we were born to be followers” Masky breathed a thick swirl of smoke out into the air, allowing the silent breeze to carry it away.

“And thus, our descent into hell becomes oh so deeper”.

~~~~~

Toby scanned the trees, watching every shadow, following every noise. He was determined to find this reject and rip out his throat. He kept himself vigilant, making sure to avoid any other killer that may be roaming the Forest. It wasn’t that he was afraid of any of them, not particularly, it was more along the lines of ‘if I run into you, i’ll cripple you at the very least so you don’t take my kill’. 

Though, if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t really want to run into Eyeless at all, even if he had the chance to beat the gray skinned bastard half to death. He had been receiving an even darker vibe from the cannibal since his fight with Jeff in the kitchen. He would catch the Pasta staring at him from time to time, and for a guy who had no eyes, he seemed to burn holes right down into Toby’s soul. 

The Proxy had made the slightest error in teasing the blind killer a few days after the fight. Claiming that if he didn't step up his game, Jeff would leave the blind cannibal for Toby. It was an host joke, Toby wouldn't let the smiling killer touch him even if he came crawling on his knees. But Eyeless had taken the joke as a bold threat and had cornered the Proxy a short time later, a scalpel to his throat.

“Mind your steps carefully Proxy, I'd love for those pretty little eyes of yours to become part of my collection”. Eyeless and pressed harder on the weapon, breaking the skin on Toby’s neck as he whispered darkly in his ear. “Stay away from what belongs to me. If you don't, I'll make sure the only parts left of you will be the kidneys rotting in my stomach”

The words still echoed loudly in the Proxies ears. He wasn't afraid, not in the slightest, but the idea of a very vivid death threat still floating around in his head kept him jumpy and on edge. But like hell was he going to let that stop him from releasing some of his blood lust. 

His surrounding were steadily growing dimmer, a sign that the sun was sinking beneath the horizon. His pace quickened as his idea to get over with this hunt before dinner pushed to the front of his mind. 

Dead leaves rustled beneath his feet, the dried, brittle tree bones crackling on the soles of his sneakers. He was about to let out a frustrated huff before a duller sound of cracking leaves caught his attention.

It was coming from his far right, it was hurried and uneven, like the creature was running. A smile split Toby's lips as he hurried after the sound. It was too large to be an animal.

Toby was hot on his preys hills, dodging trees and brier’s as he ran. He knew his prey heard him, their pace quickening as he followed, but that didn't stop him. He was close, he could hear their straining breaths, almost hear the pounding of their fefered heart.

“ **_Kill them_ ** ”, “ Tear them apart ”, “ **Rip open their stomachs and watch as the light leaves their eyes** ”. For once, the voices spurred him on. 

Toby burst through the trees, right behind his prey. The guy he was chasing cast a glance over his shoulder, wide eyes widening more before he pumped his legs to go faster. Toby let the manic laughter bubbling up from his throat pass his lips, the sound haunting in the other wise dead Forest.

“Come on bitch. Run, run. Faster, see how far you can go” Toby called out, his laughter growing as the prey tried to get further ahead in their escape. “ _ Kill them! _ ”, “ **Do it now!** ”.

A hatchet slipped from its holster, Toby's fingers tight around the handle. The Proxy raised his weapon, ready to let it fly. But he was tackled brutally from the side, knocking him off course, and letting his prey get free.

Toby and his attacker tumbled along the Forest floor, rocks and roots digging into their backs, legs and arms. Curses were shouted from both ends, limbs flaying, weapons clashing, before Toby landed on his back with a grunt, a heavier object landing on top of him. “What the shit” the being growled above him, Toby’s eyes widened, he knew that raspy sounding voice anywhere, something he was not proud of by the way.

“Jeff, you son of a bitch!”, the Proxy shoved the killer from his person forcefully, succeeding in getting the killer off his chest. “Yeah, what’s your fucking point twitchy” the smiling killer rasped, standing from the ground, pulling his knife from where it had gotten stabbed into the dirt beside Toby’s head. “You let my kill get away” the Proxy yelled, quickly standing so that the killer wouldn’t be looking down on him, which didn’t help much considering their height difference.

“Piss off, that bastard is mine. You get anywhere near them and i’ll gut you like a fucking pig” the killer accented his threat with a knife to Toby’s throat, as if that hasn’t happened before. The teens lips pulled back in a snarl, that kill was his, he found him first, “ **we deserve to kill him!** ”, “ _ we have to rip out his heart and stomp it into the ground! _ ”, “ we have to hurt him before he can hurt us ”.

Toby knocked Jeff’s hand away, not caring in the slightest that the blade nicked his skin. With a “go fuck yourself” spat in the killers face, the Proxy took off in the direction of his prey. He refused to let anyone else kill what was his.

It took the Proxy a shorter amount of time to hunt the reject down then expected. It turns out that he didn’t make it very far before collapsing against a tree in a small area where the trees were wider spaced and the underbrush was thinner. 

Toby’s eyes were wild, blood boiling with the urge to kill, to spill blood, to make his prey scream. “ **Kill him** ”, “ _ Kill him _ ”, “ Kill him ”, “ **_Kill him!_ ** ”. An arm wrapped itself around his throat, pulling him back and away from his kill once again. He whirled on his attacker, swinging his weapon as he did, not caring who he was trying to slice open. 

Jeff jumped back quickly, dodging the attack before contouring with his own. “I fucking told you twitchy, that fucker is mine to kill”. Toby was so fucking sick of this shit, every time he and the killer were around each other there was a fight, no matter what he did, he was the object of conflict every time. Toby was breathing hard, pressing back against the killer’s attacks, his hands were shaking, his vision tunneling. Fuck this.

He let the blade sink into his shoulder, catching Jeff off guard. Aiming low, the Proxy dived around the killer’s waist, driving him backwards until he slammed into a tree. Jeff’s head connected with the bark with a loud thud, his body went limp against Toby’s and the Proxy let him slide from his grasp. His head was pounding, thoughts running a mile a second, the voices screaming at him to kill. 

Turning back towards his prey, he stalked out into the open, catching sight of Sally in his peripheral vision but not giving a damn. The little girl in question watched as the Proxy stormed his way over to the resting prey, her figure quickly retreating back into the shadows, “Sally? What’s wrong”, green eyes turned to a white mask, a smile of dripping red painted on the front, “Toby is going in for the kill” she stated turning back to the gruesome scene unfolding before her. 

Toby reached the prey in only a few seconds, the guy barley having enough time to open his eyes before he was shoved onto his back with a shoe to his chest. Toby lifted his foot only to slam it back down over and over again. Laughter bubbled up from between his lips, as the prey struggled to curl in on himself, groaning in pain. Toby fell to his knees, pinning him down with his body, he held the prey’s chin in one hand, pushing back to expose his throat as he raised his hatchet.

The prey bit down on the fingers that came to close to his mouth, refusing to let go. Toby paused as the pressure increased on his digits, his dilated pupils sweeping over the reason why. Instead off pulling his fingers away, Toby pressed them deeper into the preys mouth, adding the other hand and squeezing his other fingers passed the guys lips. When he had a strong enough hold, he began to pull. And pull. And pull, until he felt his preys jaw give, the pressure leaving his fingers. 

His prey was wide eyes, tears streaming form the orbs, his mouth hung open in a mass of crooked bone and blood. Toby removed his fingers, taking up one of his hatchets and tears a line down the preys shirt. The skin was coated in a light sheen of sweat, the chest heaving, stomach open for Toby to do as he pleased. Without a second thought, the Proxy dropped his hatchet, running his fingers gently over the flesh before digging his nails into it. 

The prey let out a broken scream through his broken jaw as Toby clawed at his skin, breaking it slowly with his dull, dirty nails. The Proxy broke past the first layer of flesh, working his way deeper, he felt eyes on him, multiple pair, from multiple directions, but not caring as blood seeped from between his fingers. The prey was crying, screaming and kicking. Doing his damndest to escape the Proxy holding him down but it was no use. 

Toby felt his nails scrape against bone, reaching deeper until he was able to pull at he skin, tearing it away with sickening wet squelches. Blood splattered in all direction, coating the Proxy in warm, sticky happiness. The prey gave one last cry of pain before going limp, eyes staring blindly up at the trees just as toby took hold of his intestines. 

The Proxy was unsure exactly how long he tore at the body, it was long enough for him to have pulled apart every organ inside it. Blood soaked him from head to toe, leaving his hands a covered in crimson gloves. He sat in the middle of it all for a good long while, the sun had long gone down and the shadows covered everything. Those who had been watching him had left long ago, none caring to see if he was alright, all too afraid to go near him after what they had witnessed. 

He was tired, he didn't want to move, didn't think he had the capability to. His stomach growled but he couldn’t find it in himself to want to eat. He contemplated sitting right there in that spot and falling asleep on the corpse Rake or Eyeless’ pet be damned. 

He tensed when he felt a presence near. He didn't move, didn't even look to see who it was. “Your a fucking psychopath you know that Twitchy”, Toby flinched at the words, he knew what he was, didn't make him feel any less bad about it. 

There was silence for a good long moment, Toby wondering if the killer just left. But he could still feel Jeff’s lidless gaze boring into him, “what d-d-d-do you wa-nt woods?”. Toby's voice came out smaller than he intended it to, and there was no answer. The Proxy glanced up at the killer and saw the dried blood running down the side of his head, reminding him of how he had slammed the killer into a tree.

Toby jumped as the killer started to make his way over, hands shoved in the pocket of his white hoodie, most likely clutching his precious knife. 

The Proxies eyes widened, was Jeff going to kill him? Is that why he was still out here when everyone else had already left. Was this revenge for slamming him into the tree? Toby began backing away from the killer, doing a pathetic form of crab walk as Jeff steadily drew closer. Death by knife was not how he wanted to go.

“W-what a-a-are you doin-ng?”, Toby was a mess, he couldn’t think straight, his limbs were weak, and his head was pounding like crazy. Jeff on the other hand was the epiphany of calm, his lidless gaze fixed on the Proxy, steps steady. Toby was going to die, he was going to fucking die, he knew he was.

The Proxy felt his back hit a tree, he rose on shaky legs clinging to the bark as if that would help him. His whole body was shaking, his neck cracking, fingers snapping. Jeff towered over his shrunken form, the fear the radiated off the Proxy was pleasing to the killer, but this wasn’t the Proxy he knew, the one that spat out curses, snide remarks and ridiculous qwips. This quivering mess before him was a pathetic excuse of a being.

Jeff reached out, grabbed Toby’s wrists, and slammed them above his head. Holding them in one hand, he pulled his knife from his pocket and drove it through the Proxy’s hands, pinning them to the bark. Taking a handful of golden brown hair, the killer pulls Toby’s head back exposing the teens neck, much like Toby had done to the reject only hours before.

“That, was my fucking kill” Jeff rasped lowly, luke warm breath fanning across the Proxy’s skin. Toby gulped audible, sweat gliding down his temple. A bleached, pink patched hand found its way to the Proxy’s throat, the grip tightening automatically, cutting off Toby’s airways. The Proxy struggled to breath, tears streaming down his cheeks, streaking through the blood, he was so pathetic, Jeff wanted to rip out his throat, wanted to make him scream, beg for mercy then kill him anyway.

He wanted him to hurt. So why was he suddenly kissing him? 

Toby stopped breathing altogether, eyes wide and staring blindly at nothing. He felt the leathery lips on his own and yet he felt nothing at all. His legs were weak, the only thing holding him up anymore was the knife in his palms. A tongue pressed its way passed his lips, forcefully bringing his own to join the fight.

The whole ordeal was rough and wild, just like Toby expected a kiss with the killer to be like. It was heavy, painful, and bloody. Jeff took the Proxy’s lips between his teeth, pulling until skin peeled, he dove back for another just to taste the blood, reveling in the warmth. He pulled back, admiring the the fresh crimson dribbled down the twitching teens lips, he’d kill him another day.

Jeff tore the knife from the Proxy’s hands, and without the extra support, Toby fell to his knees. He was breathing hard, mind having a melt down. ‘What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck!’ kept running through his thoughts, he brushed his fingertips over his wounded lips, they were swelling and bloody and still tingling from the forceful attention they were just given. His head snapped up, he had to know what the killer was thinking, what the hell was going through his psychotic mind.

But he was alone, nothing but the corpse to accompany him in his decent deeper into madness. 

And he was still fucking hungry. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM. IMPLIED SEXUAL THEMES

**~ Chapter 13 ~**

Toby took his time making it back to the mansion, allowing his legs to wander as they pleased. His mind was an array of conflicting thoughts, he couldn't linger on one particular thing for to long before a sharp pulse in his lip sent him reeling back into the events of only a half hour before.

Not even the voices had anything to say. Toby was a mess, the poor teen covered in scrapes and bruises, he’s had worse, far worse but that added on top of the sudden tiredness that racked through his body, the Proxy desperately wanted to face plant into his bed. 

He trudged on through the Forest, legs wobbly from the overexertion, hands shaking, fingers popping. His skin was beginning to grow itchy from all the drying blood. Maybe he could make a pit stop by his shower before bed. 

The Rake followed close behind him. Toby could hear it's whispers, and the way it's clawed, dirty fingers scraped against the ground as it slunk after his form. If the creature were to attack him at that moment, the Proxy doubted he would fight back, or at least have the strength to win. 

Toby broke through the foliage that surrounded the mansion. The structure looming in the center of the small clearing in all its Gothic beauty. Lights flickered in a few of the windows, shadows passing by the panes every now and again. The moon was yet to complete its cycle to its full girth but it still shone bright down on the Proxy who stared up at the house of killers with a sense of inferiority.

He allowed himself to wonder if he would be any different if he had not accepted the Slenderman’s proposal. If he had allowed himself to be lost to the Forest, to the people of the outside world. Those cruel creatures called human beings that had already performed a number of injustices towards him. The thoughts flitted away just a quickly as they came. He knew he would have left himself to suffer out in the real world, he would have crawled his way into a ditch and tore into his wrists with his own teeth if he was left to the clutches of society. 

After a deep breath, Toby made his way through the front door of the mansion. The old, strong oak creaking as he shut it. The house was quiet, not that it was never quiet before, this time it left the Proxy on edge. The eerily uncharacteristic silence that filled the air was like an inhale of stale smoke, burning and suffocating all at once. Toby walked along the foyer, passing darkened rooms leaving behind mud and blood caked foot prints. 

“He went bat shit crazy”. 

“I didn't think he had it in em’”

“Did you see all that blood! It was amazing!”

“Oi, it was fucking insane is what it was”

“Should we be worried?”

Toby stopped outside the entrance of one of the many living rooms scattered around the bottom floor of the mansion, listening to the group gathered within. He had a feeling he knew what they were talking about, or rather  _ who  _ they were talking about. But he didn't want to jump to deep in the kiddie pool just yet.

“You scared or something B.P?”

“Of course not. I just think we should know rather or not we have to watch out backs around Toby”

Even though he knew deep down that it was he that the group were speaking of, it didn't stop the flinch that sprang from his being, nor did it lessen the ache in his chest. “He's not wrong, Rogers is still pretty new all things considering. There is still a number of things we have yet to learn about him, and the actions that took place tonight should be a fair warning to all of you to keep yourselves on high alert”. 

Toby recognized that muffled voice, he liked Hoodie, the masked Proxy was always around for a good laugh when Toby needed one, even if it was just Toby saying stupid shit, and Hoodie replying with other stupid shit just to humor him.

Toby watched as blood splattered the floorboards by his feet, not even realizing he was digging his nails into the knife wounds of his palms. His neck popped as he dug in deeper, red welling up from the punctures to puddle on the floor.

“Toby?”

The Proxy tensed at the sound of Sally’s voice, the conversation in the living room dying down. He loosened his grip, fresh crimson coating his fingers as he turned to look down at the girl. 

“H-hey Sal”, Toby tried to smile, but his lips wavered to much for him to keep it up. Large green eyes stared up at him in concern, gaze burning the Proxy deep. 

“Are you ok Toby?”. The question was simple, meant to have a simple answer, Toby wanted to say yes, that's all he had to say. But the died on the back of his throat,he choked on the lie, he was not ok,he would never be ok, everything was falling apart and he couldn't hold the pieces together. 

He turned on his heel, marched his way past the living room of cowards and stomped up the stairs to his room,ignoring the calls from Sally. His eyes burned from unshed tears, but he refused to cry, he was sick and tired of crying, he wasn't going to be weak. 

He passed a familiar room, the door scratched and splintered, the wood having years of abuse etched into it's grains. A harsh, erratic thumping came from the room, and Toby sneered at the thought of what was going on behind that door. 

“Fuck him. Fuck them. Fuck everyone” he grumbled to himself, pulling open his door and slamming it shut behind him, sliding the lock into place.  **“Pathetic”** ,  _ “All of them” _ ,  “They all deserve to burn in hell!” . The voices shouted all at once, leaving behind an echo that morphed into a growing headache. Toby groaned, neck popping, as he trudged to his bathroom, peeling off clothes as he went. 

Toeing off his shoes, he flipped on the bathroom light, he had to squint his eyes at the brightness. Looking in the mirror, he felt his skin rise with gooseflesh, his heart pounded harder in his chest as he observed the creature in the reflective glass. It took him a split second to realize the creature was him.

He was coated in blood, it ran down his face in dried rivlets his skin completely coated in red. His eyes stood out amongst the crimson, large and frightened. The blood that had seeped through his jacket and shirt sat splayed across his chest, the substance sticky and semi-wet, clinging to his skin in an itchy sort of way. His hair was matted with dirt and more blood, clumps tangling the locks into an unrecognizable mess. 

He looked like a monster. And he supposed he was, he did just tear a guy open with his bare hands.  **_“Others have done worse”_ ** ,  _ “So much worse” _ . He knew the voices were right, he could have tortured the guy, kind of sucked he didn’t get the chance. Turning from the mirror, the Proxy unbuckled his belt, laying his hatchets on the ground as he slipped off his mud caked jeans. 

Icey water splashed his back before it turned to a blistering hot, he didn’t feel the burning sling of the water, only the comforting warmth it brung as he ran his fingers through his hair, tearing out the tangles as he went. The water turned red, pink and brown as it traveled down the drain, freeing his pale skin from its suffocating hold. Toby let out a sigh of relief when he finally scrubbed down the rest of his body, scraping away any remnants of the night. He only wished he could do the same with his memories. 

The Proxy sat in the shower until the water ran cold, his body shivering. Wrapping a towel around his waist as he exited the shower, Toby stopped at the mirror once again. His face free of blood, he could make out ever bruise, bump and scrape. But what stood out the most was his swollen lip.

It had already scabbed over, and he ran his tongue over the wound. It pulsed beneath the administration causing the Proxy to remember how exactly it had got there. Toby scowled back at his reflection, “don't think about it idiot!” he hissed at himself, watching as his tongue continued back to licking the scab. 

**“Idiot, you mean nothing to him.”**

_ “He only wants a fuck toy because his old one is being a little bitch.” _

**_“Don't fall for his trap. Don't let them hurt you again.”_ **

Toby bit down on his lip, splitting open the scab and causing the wound to bleed once again. He was not going to be screwed with again, he was done being the weak one. He'd show Jeff,he'd show them all that he was more than just a psychotic little freak.

He was so much more.

~~~~~

Lidless eyes stared blankly up at a plain ceiling. A pool of pale light fell in through the window, barley giving the Killer anything to see by. 

Eyeless lay beside him, sprawled bare across the bed, practically dead to the world. His breaths where even and calm, a small, satisfied smile played across his grey lips. Jeff looked over at the cannibal, contemplating if it would be a good idea to slit the bastards throat. 

It was getting to the point where the cannibal was becoming….constricting. Eyeless had always been demanding, knew what he wanted when he wanted it. That was one of the things Jeff found acceptable when he started chasing after his grey ass. He had expected the possessiveness, hell they all had the possessive streak dug deep into their bones. But lately, Eyeless was growing to the point of clinging, in the worst sort of way. 

Jeff heaved himself up to a sitting position, hating the fact he was tired but could not fall asleep. Tossing back the sheets that covered his waist, the Killer exited his bed, patting across the cold wood floor to throw on a pair of sweatpants he was sure where at least moderately clean.

Glancing back at the cannibal in his bed, the smiling killer slipped from the room and stalked down the darkened corridor.

The shadows clung to their corners, inching just along the edges of the light as if daring each other to reach out and swallow it whole. A pair of hollow eyes stared back at the killer from the dark, “Spread the word” trickled across the hall giving the Killer the knowledge of who was watching him.

“Stupid mutt” Jeff mumbled to himself as he walked further down the hall, the chilled air pricking the bare, patched skin of his chest. The Killer paused in front of a plain white door, his unblinking eyes staring intently at the innocent wood. His fingertips twitched in his sweats pockets, all he had to do was reach out and twist the handle, not that fucking hard. But his hesitation seemed to ring out loudly in the empty hall.

A heavy drawn out laugh rose up from behind him. The Killer glared over his shoulder at the demented dog, cursing the bastards existence. “Shut the hell up mutt” he growled, reaching out he pushed open the door and slipped inside. 

The room was dark, light not even reaching through the window. It took a moment for the Killer’s eyes to adjust, but when they finally mapped out the darkness, he was not disappointed. 

The Proxy he was searching for was sprawled across his bed, stomach down, a towel wrapped around his waist. The pale skin of his back stood out against the surrounding darkness, almost like a light to guide the Killer to his desires. Jeff walked silently up to the side of the twitching teens bedside, reaching out,he ran his fingertips along the backs of Toby's pale legs, admiring the smooth skin.

A small noise came from the Proxy, causing the Killer to freeze. Toby mumbled a few unintelligible words, shifted into a more comfortable position before settling down once again. Jeff released the breath he did not know he was holding, he honestly expected the Proxy to wake up. 

The Killer continued his path up Toby's leg until he came to the end of his towel. Jeff licked his lips, just a little more and he could have the Proxy begging to be fucked like a whore. It was tempting, and the Killer made a mental note to definitely do it if given another chance, but the Proxy got a free pass just this once. 

The Killer moved forward until he was hovering over the twitching teen, watching as his body gave small moments in his sleep. Jeff could see Toby's eyes darting back and forth beneath his eyelids, his mouth hanging open, coating his pillow in drool. 

Slowly, cautiously, Jeff placed his hand near Toby's head, using it as support as he leaned forward, close enough that the Proxy’s soft strands swept over his almost non existent nose. The Killer breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh smell, it was so much better than the stench of death he had smelt on him earlier. 

The killer sniffed again, working his way down to the Proxy’s throat, reaching out with his free hand to support his weight against the nightstand. A clatter of plastic falling to the floor brought him from his thoughts of tearing open the teens neck with his teeth and making him scream his name in pleasure. The pill bottle rattled as it rolled across the floor, making the Proxy stir in his sleep. 

Jeff backed away quickly, snacking the bottle from the floor and halting any other movements. Toby turned over in his sleep, breathing in deeply before settling. Clinging to his pillow as though it would save him from the shadows that lurked in the corners. Jeff looked down at the pills in his hands, and it was no wonder that the Proxy was still out like a light, he had knocked himself out on sleeping pills.

Jeff replaced the pills back on the nightstand, looking down at the Proxy once again. He'd bide his time, wait for the right moment, then he would have his way. For now, he'd let the twitching bastard sleep, hell only knew how long it's been since any of them had a proper night's sleep. 

Bending down, Jeff ran his tongue along Toby's throat, savoring his taste once more before backing away. One day he'd slit that pretty throat and taste the sweet blood that the teen was keeping all to himself, until then he'd let him live. 

The killer slipped out of the Proxy’s room, returning to his own where his lover lied, just as the light of a new sunrise rose over the lining of the Forest beyond.


	14. Chapter 14

**~ Chapter 14 ~**

“We got a job Rogers.”

Hearing those words was like music to Toby's ears.

It had been a good three months since his last mission outside of the forest, and Toby was glad for the change in pace.

Masky threw down a tan folder in front of the Proxy, two more matching ones held in his hand. Toby reached forward from his sprawled out position on the couch and snatched the folder from the coffee table, opening it as Masky plopped down beside Hoodie, handing him his own folder.

Dumping the contents out on his chest, Toby shifted through all the boring stuff like location and family, and found the fun stuff.

In the upper left corner of the page sat a picture of a young looking girl, dirty blonde hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. The picture was taken from her side, a backpack sat between her shoulder blades, while earbuds hung snuggly in her ears. She wore black leggings that stopped mid calf beneath a pair of jean shorts that sat above her thighs. An army green jacket covered up a black shirt. 

Overall, she looked like your average teenage girl heading to school, Toby would have wondered why a group of psychopaths were stalking after her. But considering the shit show of a life he lived, he wouldn't underestimate her.

Beneath the picture was her personal information. Her name was MacKenzie Conner, she was fifteen going on sixteen and loved eating spaghetti. She hated seafood and had a slight peanut allergy. She lived with five older brothers, and a stepfather. Her mother had been deceased for four years now.

Toby could see the normality of her life, she went to school, had a home to go back to. Had a family with missing pieces but a family nonetheless. All the attributes of living a normal life. But if the Slenderman found her interesting, she was far from normalcy. 

Toby flipped to her medical history. Took three years of therapy after she pushed one of her brothers out of a tree. Diagnosed with Schizophrenia, ADHD, Anxiety and Depression. 

‘Not even sixteen and she's got the whole package’ the twitching teen thought to himself, reading over more of her file, skimming over the parts were she tortured her neighbors cat before killing it with the table saw in her garage. 

“She see-ms nice” Toby spoke after awhile of silence, throwing the papers down on the coffee table. He couldn't be bothered to finish reading any of her information. 

“You need to know that info Rogers” Masky called across the room, not taking his eyes off his own papers. “Yeah ye-yeah, I'll….j-just a-a-ask Hood-die to tell me the thi-ings I don't reme-member”. This gained a small laugh from the hoodie wearing Proxy in question, but Masky just glared at him from beneath his mask. 

“This isn’t a joke Toby. The Operator is allowing you to come along with us on this one. If you screw this up then what would be the point in keeping you around?” Toby felt the small smirk that had formed on his lips disappear, his fingers popped loudly as he curled them into his fist. 

Masky was still a little bitch, Toby did not doubt that would ever change, but the fact that the bastard kept putting the ideas of being thrown out to the world in his already fucked up head kept the twitching teen aching to drive his hatchets through his stupid skull. 

With a huff, Toby lifted himself from the couch, deciding to leave before he did something he would get hell for later. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, the Proxy made for the door, 

“You still have to read it befo-”

“I’ll fucking read it alright! God damn, stop breathing down my fucking neck, i’m not an idiot!” Toby cut off the white masked Proxy mid sentence, sick and tired of Masky trying to talk down to him like he was a child, like he wasn’t capable of doing things for himself, or getting things done when they needed to be. Granted he never did his chores but that was different. 

Toby marched his way out of the living room, leaving behind the two older males to process the sudden outburst on their own. 

“We leave in two days!” he heard Hoodie call as he entered the kitchen mumbling to himself about stupid bastards and craving hot wings. 

“The fuck was that about?” Masky grumbled, shuffling through the papers one last time before returning his personal stack to his folder. Hoodie shrugged, rereading his own papers for the fifth time. “Hormonal imbalance maybe? Kid needs to get laid.” This earned a snort from his white masked friend, “doubt anybody would fuck that little prick even if he paid ‘em” Masky stated, stretching his arms over his head until his back popped.

“Jeff probably would.”

Masky choked on his spit. Doubling over as he coughed into his hand. “What the actual fuck Brian” he choked out, face red from the strain, eyes watering from the tickle in his throat. Hoodie regarded his friend with a bored look, shaking his head at Masky’s display. 

“Clockwork might fuck him to if he asked her. They both seem to have a thing for the kid” he claimed nonchalantly, replacing his papers in there folder, “you can’t deny that those two psycho’s don’t get a gleam in their eye every time he walks into a room. So they either really wanna fuck his brains out, or tear his guts out. Maybe both, hell if I know. Fuck his guts?”

“Your one sick son of a bitch you know that” Masky chided, gathering the folders together. And tossing them back on the coffee table. Hoodie leaned back against the couch cushions, grabbing the tv remote and flipping through channels.

“Hey, I gotta get my entertainment some how. You aren't always reliable when I need to be fulfilled”, Masky could hear the playful stab in the other Proxies voice, but that didn't stop him from tackling his friend off the side of the couch. 

~~~~~

“Fucking bitch, I know what I'm supposed to do. Asshole needs to lay off my damn back.”

Toby mumbled to himself as he trailed up the stairs, plate of mac and cheese in one hand, can of soda in the other. The only light Masky could see him in was one where Toby was a nuisance, a pathetic Proxy that needed to be told what to do, who couldn’t take care of himself, who couldn’t handle a simple mission. Toby knew he was so much more than that, he would show that bastard that he could handle this mission like a real Proxy.

The teen kind of wished he had taken the folder of their next charge with him before he stormed out of the sitting room, considering he already forgot the girls name, but hey, he would deal with that shit later, his mac and cheese was getting cold. 

The one thing he hated the most about the mansion, was the seemingly never ending staircases that ascended and descended the halls. Of course they were not truly infinite, that was an exaggeration that Toby saw fitting for the steps, truth be told, the Proxy had climbed to the very top flight ending in yet another hall, though this floor also had an attic, that Toby was told not to enter. And of course he tried to anyway, but there was no handle or string to pull down the attic door. Toby promised himself he would enter it one day, but as of yet, the attic was forgotten. 

Toby’s room however, was five flights of stairs beneath the attic, so it still left the twitching teen with a ways to go before he was able to lock himself away in the safety of his room so he could drown his frustrations in silence and golden cheesy noodles. 

By the time his room came into sight, the Proxy was huffing from both annoyance and climbing eight flights of stairs. Tucking his soda can in the crook of his arm, the teen shoved his room door open and slammed it closed again with the flat of his foot. Placing his drink on the edge of his night stand he flopped down on his bed, holding his plate aloft as to not drop his lunch. Realizing he forgot an eating utensils, the Proxy opted for just using his tongue.

Toby flipped on the small television sitting in the corner of the room, thanking whatever that the mansion had decent cable. How they paid for electricity would forever be a mystery, but something Toby decided not to question. Why question something so wonderful.

The proxy entertained his short attention span with mindless cartoons and sucking one cheese noodle into his mouth at a time, only choking on a few. 

“I honestly thought you would have more experience then that Rodgers. Your gag reflex is shit.” 

Toby almost dropped his plate, what the actual fucking fuck? The proxy sat straight up in his bed, his gaze wild and searching around his room in a frenzy. Was his room haunted? Was he being haunted by a ghost that had humor of a fifteen year old? Fuck did he die and is now haunting himself? 

Toby quickly threw that thought out of his mind. That was ridiculous, how could he haunt himself. Placing the plate beside him on the comforter, Toby sat up on his knees, put a tight grip on his sheets and leaned over the edge of his bed. His eyes did not even need the time to adjust to the dark space beneath his bed, Clockwork took up most of the room, her one green eye shining bright with mischief while a smile played across her lips.

“Boo?”

Toby rolled his eyes with a huff then straightened himself back up on the bed snagging his mac and cheese. 

Clockwork worked herself back up from beneath the Proxy’s bed, slightly disappointed her plan did not go as she had wanted it to. Without asking permission, the Pasta slapped Toby’s feet out of her way and plopped down on his bed, back against the wall, feet thrown over his legs. The two killers fell into a silence that was neither awkward or comfortable. Just silence except for the constant play of the television. Occasionally, Clockwork would reach over and snag some of Toby’s lunch, which he would snatch away his plate and glare at the woman, insulted that she would dare touch his food.

“Why t-the hell were you un-un-under my bed?” Toby finally asked as a commercial played. Clockwork shrugged, licking cheese off her fingers. “I had planned on scaring the shit out of you, but you took to long so I fell asleep. Woke up to ya choking yourself out” she explained, stretching her arms over her head. 

“ **Why is she here?** ”. “ _ Make her leave! _ ”. “ **_She needs to get the fuck out!_ ** ”. The voices screeched in the Proxy’s head, making him whence at the sudden outbursts. Toby knew the best course of action would be to kick her out, make her leave him be, but he could not kick her out, or rather, he did not want to. The company was nice, though he would never admit that to her face. 

“We-ll, i’d prob-b-bably try to kill you if-if-if-if yo-u-u did scare me” The teen admitted, placing the empty plate on the nightstand, trading it for his soda and cracking it open. Clockwork let out a short, sharp laugh, throwing her head back as she did so. “Sure Rodgers, i’ll let you believe that”. 

Toby rolled his eyes, though he was still amused by the other killers antics. He truly enjoyed Clockworks company on a small level, even if she was bitchy and self centered on most occasions. 

“So, I heard you and the other two lame asses were going on a little trip in a few days”, Toby shrugged, by now, he was used to the backlash he and the other Proxies received from the others of the mansion. It was hard to distinguish where the underlying hatred seemed to breed from. Toby thought that the others should be happy that they did not have to serve directly under the Slenderman, that they did not have to be tortured from the inside out for every tiny mistake. 

“Yeah, not sure wh-where were heading, but the-the-the-the whole sh-shibang seems pretty simple. A snatch an-d g-g-go, some gi-rl with a few loose screws-s-s”. Clockwork ‘hmmed’ strumming her fingers against her knee, clock piece ticking. 

The silence that draped over the two was awkward this time around, Toby could feel the frustration that radiated off of the Pasta beside him. 

“Well, if you stay away for to long, you might make me jealous”. Toby jerked his head towards the woman, neck popping, fingers cracking in confusion. “U-uh, w-w-w-what?”, the teen sat rigged against his head board, the voices screaming in his head.

“It’ll be pretty quiet while your gone. Don’t know what any of us will do since we’ve all gotten used to you being obnoxious”, Clockwork stared back at the Proxy, her gaze the complete opposite of Toby’s wide eyed stare. 

“Have you ever kissed anyone Toby?”

Memories of that night in the woods filtered across the Proxy’s mind, his blood began to boil beneath his skin as he remembered Jeff and the way the smiling bastard held him down as he attacked his lips. 

“ **_She’s screwing with you!_ ** ”. “ _ Don't listen to her bullshit! _ ”. “ She’s just trying to get you to admit t what the fucking bastard did! ”. “ _ Don’t let her- _ ”.

The voices that rambled off in the Proxies head silenced immediately. Toby was confused on a number of levels as to why Clockwork was so close to him, why his nose brushed hers, why her mouth was touching his.

‘What the actual fucking hell!’ the Proxy was screaming to himself, telling himself to do something, move his hands, close his eyes, shove her off. Do anything that would keep him from losing his shit. But he sat there awkwardly, eyes wide open, comparing this soft, pathetic kiss to the one he had with Jeff. 

His blood bubbled again, why the hell was he even comparing the two. This kiss was far better, softer, gentler, and with a pretty decent looking girl. Toby dug his nails into the sheets beneath him, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing back into the kiss. 

~~~~~

Toby left his room an hour later, cheeks flushed, lips slightly swollen and a dazed look inhabiting his golden gaze. To say he was happy was the understatement of the fucking year. He was ecstatic. That was his first kiss, well his first real kiss, he refused to even acknowledge the one he had with the smiling killer. And it was with a girl, or well Clockwork, but she counted enough to the Proxy.

“What the shit was that Twitchy?”

Toby whirled around in time to be shoved into the nearest wall, Jeff’s luke warm breath fanning across his face. 

“T-the fuck are you talking about b-b-bastard?” Toby snapped back a reply to the smiling killer, glaring up into his lidless gaze. “That bitch fucking you or something?” Jeff rasped down at the Proxy, hand trailing up to wrap around his neck in a loose grip. 

Toby furrowed his brows, confusion coating his anger, “W-why does i-i-it matt-er to you?”. Toby felt the killers fingers twitch against his neck, a look passed behind his pupils to quickly for him to read. A true smile spread the already carved fake as Jeff pressed himself against the younger murder. 

“What’s the matter Twitchy? You didn’t like our time together in the Forest? Didn’t like the way I held you down, practically fucked your mouth with my tongue?”.

Chills stabbed there way down the Poxy’s spine, his toes curled at the killers words. He hated this, hated the way Jeff was making his finger twitch uncontrollably, hated the warm feeling the spread over his cheeks and down his chest. Hated that Jeff made him feel anything with just a few words while Clockwork made him feel hardly anything with her kiss.

Jeff grabbed the outer part of the Proxy’s thigh, making Toby jolt in surprise. “That slut is just gonna play you Twitchy. She’s gonna use you like a common whore, then toss you aside to get played with by everyone else”.

“You offering to be the first in line?” Toby growled, shoving the hands away from his body, denying himself the fact that those words stung. “Nothing's happening between me and Clockwork you nosy fuck. Stay the hell away from me and go fuck your creepy ass, walking, talking blow up doll”. 

Toby turned on his heel and stomped his way down the stairs, completely forgetting why he was heading down in the first place. Forgetting that he had a mission in just a few days. Forgetting that he was just kissed by Clockwork no more than an hour ago. But not being able to forget the feeling of the killers hand against his throat, or his body pressed against his own. 

“I’m so fu-fucking scre-ew-wed.”


	15. Chapter 15

**~ Chapter 15 ~**

  
  


**_~9:45 p.m, Night before mission departure~_ **

Shadows gorged themselves on any light they could extinguish, every corner, every crevice was swallowed by the pitch blackness. Nothing could pierce through the formless beast that crept over every floor board, every inch of wall paper, every curve of a door frame. 

The shadows held secrets, greater than any other thing, it kept the darkest for their own and thrived on the biggest. Their whispers where only heard by those of their own nature; dark, consuming, merciless, but even they held a ringing in all of the deathly silence that they portrayed. 

They crawled along leisurely, skirting just along the edge of pale light that emitted from the cracked door of a small, bare room. A naked bulb hung in the center, painting the off white walls a chilling grey tone, shadows that were trapped in the forms of their masters stretched over the walls, clinging ever so slightly to the ones lurking outside the door with each passing glance. They wished to join their brothers and sisters in the observation of secrets and lies and torments that happened within their darkened confines, but they were trapped in a never ending form.

“If I didn't know any better, i’d say you were trying to take him for yourself”.

“What the fuck do you think i’m trying to do, you shit stain. Keep your fucking hands off what’s mine”.

“Ha! You cant have what i’ve already claimed you bitch, he’s mine, and I ain’t the sharing type so you might as well get the fuck out of my way”.

The two individuals kept their voices low, the night having just as many ears as the day. One paced the small room in an irritated, predatory manner. Their steps were heavy, angry, bordering on maniacal. The other was leaned against the wall, their physic giving the allusion of nonchalance, but their fingers strummed harshly against their own sleeve covered arm.

The confrontation was nearing its second hour, the two killers bickering in a manner that left them seeming more like children arguing over the same toy. 

“What exactly gives you the idea that he would even want anything to do with you? All the both of you have done is try and kill each other”. 

The pacing being let out a sort of unfavorable growl, a sign that he was growing tired of these games. He took his place opposite of the other killer, mimicking the pose in which the other occupied. 

“What makes you think I can't have him Timepiece?”

Clockwork gave off a unimpressed huff of laughter, a smirk forming of her lips, the stitches along her cheeks stretching against her skin. 

“Your real pathetic you know that Woods. Your words are empty, hollow threats that make me want to laugh and puke my guts out all over the floor. Toby isn't going to do shit for you, I know how much hatred he harbors for you. There’s no way in hell that’s ever going to change”. 

Jeff gripped the handle of his knife, if his hands were not shoved deep in his hoodie pocket, Clockwork would see the killers patched knuckles burning white. 

“And you think you could do any better? I could have that little bastard on his knees sucking my dick in a matter of minutes”.

Clockwork rolled her eye. She had to admit, the killers ambition was strong. But he still pissed her off royally.

“You know, if I gave two shits, I'd say something along the lines of ‘what about Eyeless? Didn't know you were the cheating type’ but I don't. So, you wanna have a little wager fuck face?”

What ever lip the smiling killer had left pulled back into a snarl. His canines were jagged, deformed in a way that they extended into serrated points. The killer had taken pride in sharpening them to his personal perfection standards. 

Jeff stalked forward, pulling his blade from his pocket as he did so. He pressed the tip threateningly against Clockworks throat, she of which didn't even flinch. 

“The fuck you getting at Timepiece?”

Clockwork gave a true smile this time, the look twisted and menacing. She pushed herself from the wall, not caring the the knife nicked her skin, or that she had to tilt her head up slightly to look at the smiling killer. 

“When Rogers gets back from his little joy ride with those other two wastes of space. We see just who can truly get under his skin. Who can make him beg the most.” 

The killers lips parted, stretching the shredded skin of his cheeks further apart, Jeff couldn’t deny he liked a good wager. He raised his knife, scraping it lightly along the stitches that decorated Clockwork’s face, wondering what would happen if he cut them apart. 

“I guess we got ourselves a little game to play, eh Timepiece. But, just so you know, when you lose, i’m going to enjoy fucking your little toy for you to hear”.

Clockwork snorted, stepping away from the killer, making her way to the door. 

“Whatever you say Woods. But hey, maybe one day i’ll let you have whatever’s left of him when I’m through”.

With that, the green eyed killer pulled open the door and merged with the blackness that clung to her person, devouring the secrets that she held to fuel their carnage.

~~~~~

Toby stuffed a pair of ragged jeans into his backpack, shoving them down as he struggled to zip the bag closed. The bag bulged against the contents that filled it, the zipper threatening to snap any second. 

“Not b-b-bad” Toby muttered to himself, admiring his handy work, hands on his hips. The Proxy felt like a kid going on a vacation, the excitement of finally going on a job, of finally getting out of the mansion, of finally going back out passed the Forrest left Toby feeling giddy, his Tourettes going wild as he pranced around his room, grabbing a few extra things he figured would be useful. 

“Cause everyone needs to take an extra pack of lightbulbs”.

The thought of opening the bag again left the Proxy cautious, so instead, the teen grabbed a roll of duct tape and stuck the pack to the outside of the bag. Wrapping the rest of the bag as well, for safe measure of course.

  
  


Toby bounded down the stairs minutes later, bag clutched tightly in his arms as he sprinted out the front door of the mansion, jumping the railing of the porch and rounding the corner of the large house in only a few seconds. The Proxy bolted straight into the open garage that was situated as an add on to the house, a black, grey topped Mercury Monterey sat in the dusty building. 

The car itself was clean, it's dark body reflecting Toby's silhouette on its sleek surface. It was a sharp contrast to the surrounding walls, the wood caked in dirt and dust, spider webs hanging in thick tendrils above the Proxy’s head, clinging to the ceiling with whatever was left of their existence.

The vehicle was well maintained, taken care of by Masky himself. It was the masked Proxy’s pride and joy. A joy Toby didn't even know existed until a month ago. He was forbidden to touch ‘Baby’, under any circumstances, breaking that rule would be call for immediate action. That if which Masky claimed “blowing you goddamn head off if you lay a single finger on Baby”. 

Toby had relented his pestering over the car after that, retaliating only with calling the Mercury Masky’s “grandpa” car instead of its other, much more delicate name. 

But even with the masked Proxy’s threat weighing on Toby's shoulders, he was to hyped for the trip to come he, couldn't help but shove his bag into the trunk of the Mercury. Cursing and threatening said bags life for not fitting between the others that already took up the space.

“The hell are you doing Rogers?”.

Toby shot his head up quickly, the back of it hitting the roof of the trunk, but of course the Proxy paid no notice as he gave the bag one last shove and slammed the trunk closed. 

Masky stood at the mouth of the garage, arms crossed. Hoodie stood beside him, a tarp and a couple rolled blankets underneath his arms. Toby gave a smile, putting one hand on his hip as he leaned the other against the roof of the car. Neck popping. 

“Jus-st helping o-o-out with the packing boys, nothing to comp-mp-mplicated. And d-don't wor-r-rry, I didn't fuck up your pre-c-cious Gran-grandpa car”. Toby rushed out the words, the stutter making them bleed together, but if Hoodie’s snort of laughter was anything to go by, Toby had got his point across. Masky ‘tsked’, shaking his head as he shoved the twitching teen aside with a mumbled ‘don’t touch my car’.

Toby did not even acknowledge the snappy attitude that Masky directed his way, he stepped away from the car, rocking back and forth on his heels, watching as Masky wiped down the spot that he had placed his hand.

“Toby, would you mind running to the kitchen and grabbing the cooler I left on the counter?” Hoodie called from his spot in the trunk. Toby gave a huff, a pout forming on his lips as he shuffled his way out of the garage. He was ready to leave, his cabin fever was driving him up the wall, and not in a good way. 

He found the plain blue, white lidded cooler sitting on the kitchen island, just like Hoodie had said. He popped open the lid and scavenged through contents, admiring the variety of snacks and drinks stored within. 

“Oh, pret-t-t-tzels. Tha-thank you Hoodie!” the twitching teen awed, snagging the small bag and digging for more. 

“I think those are for your shitty ass trip dumb ass”. Toby jerked up, the pretzel bag falling from between his teeth, his eyes narrowing.

“Do you ha-ve no-no-nothing better to do then-then-then pester me?” the twitching teen snapped, repacking all the snacks and grabbing the cooler off the counter. 

Jeff cut off the Proxy’s chance at retreat. Leaning his weight against the door frame. 

“Come on Twitchy, can't get a few minutes alone with ya before you disappear for the next four to five days?”

Toby glared at the smiling killer, refusing to bless the bastard with his words. If anything had the ability to sour his earlier ecstatic joy, Jeff won the prize. 

The corners of Jeff’s handmade smile wilted slightly when he realized the Proxy refused to latch onto his words. The killer had begun to notice Toby's lack of retort when it came to his taunting and jabs of insults. Jeff gave a huff of annoyance, figuring the teen was not going to jump into the hook the killer had bite in hopes of sinking his claws into what he considered his prize. Stepping to the side, much to Toby's own surprise, the killer left the doorway open and free for the Proxy to flee from. 

With a suspicious side glance to the killer, Toby gripped the cooler in his hand tighter, and made a move forward. That was the moment Jeff reached out and snagged the Proxy’s upper arm, pulling him to the side and slamming him against the wall, cooler discarded on the ground. Jeff held the Proxy tightly, pressing his weight down on the teen so his escape would need a much larger effort. The smiling killer ignored the twitching teens struggles and harsh curses in favor of savoring his snarling lips.

The killer was never one for practicality, never planned anything out to go flawlessly into motion. He acted on instinct, and went with what his gut inquired that he do. The harsh, brash, cruel ways in which he acted out said inquiries was just part of who he was. So he paid no mind to the blood that coated his tongue when he bit into the Proxy’s bottom lip, cared little for the nails clawing at his scalp as Toby tried to grab fist gulls of his hair, nor did he consider the thoughts of his current lover who could walk in at any moment. 

Jeff had struck a deal, one he planned to accomplishment in his own favor. He didn't care how many times he had to restrain the Proxy, how many bloody lips he had to cause. He couldn't give two shits how many times he would have to slam Toby against a wall, force his body into submission, and ravish him until he forgot how to twitch. Jeff would win the bet, and he'd be damned if anything got in the way of that.

Toby thrashed against the body that held him down, cursed against the leathery lips that subdued his own, he dug his fingers into black burnt locks trying desperately to remove the teeth that sank into his skin. He hated this, hated the fact Jeff could hold him down with almost perfect ease. Hated that the killer thought he could take what he wanted from the Proxy. Hated that he was enjoying the heat of fighting against something giving him unrequited pleasure. 

His chest heaved, pressing against the killers with every deep, ragged breath. His fingers tangled the black strands of the killers hair. Tears pricked the corners of his golden brown eyes, they were wide and mixed with a concoction of surprise, anger and the slightest bit of fear. They stared back into those of the smiling killers, Jeff able to watch every emotion pass over Toby's face, his lidless gaze able to watch the Proxy slowing his struggles, watching as his eyelids fell half closed. 

Toby felt mortified, horror struck, betrayed by his own self control. His heart pounded in his chest, blood rushed in his ears. His grip loosened in the killers hair, his hand just resting on the back of Jeff’s head, proving to be neither a provider of pressure or an object of barrier between the two. A sudden grab to the sensitive skin of his inner thigh had the Proxy gasping for breath, providing the killer to pillage the new found territory of his mouth. 

Jeff found himself maneuvering into the space between Toby's thighs, letting his hands roam the expanse of forbidden terrain he had before been denied. The fleeting thought of banging the Proxy right there against the kitchen wall had the killers blood boiling, all bets aside, his thoughts were all but occupied by the Proxy against him. 

The was when Jeff had slid his hands down to the underside of the Proxy’s thighs in order to lift him higher, did interruption occur. Toby had jerked back so quickly that his head hit the wall when he heard someone clear their voice through his haze muddled brain. He had pushed Jeff back, the killer being caught off guard as well as the Proxy, only to find Hoodie standing in the doorway of the kitchen, seeming unfazed by the new display, but Toby had always figured his mask was a use of emotional hindrance for others. 

“We leave in an hour” was all the older Proxy claimed before he picked up the cooler and left the room. Toby stared wide eyed after the other male, his being trembling from the sudden surprise, this was not at all how he wanted the day to go. 

Toby jumped when he felt slick, dampness slide along his neck. “I'll see ya when you get back Twitchy. Keep that ass nice for me” Jeff rasped into his ear, grabbing Toby's ass before walking away cackling, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket. 

Left to his own devices and tormenting thoughts. Toby found himself slamming his fists into the kitchen island over and over again. Cursing Jeff’s existence, cursing his own existence, cursing every being out there that seeker to make his life a hell, for a split second he had the thought of not coming back from this mission, rather from his own mishap or purposeful flee. But the thought was gone before he could fully grasp it. 

After a good long contemplation, and another round with the island, Toby walked to the sink with the taste of blood in his mouth. Masky had pulled the Mercury out from the garage, it sat idling in the yard, waiting to be led down the road to their destination. Toby wasn't sure if four days would be enough time away.

**_~ 8:37 p.m. Night of mission departure. Three minutes till time~_ **

The car was packed, the three Proxies ready to leave, objective memorized. Masky and Hoodie were doing a last minute check, being thoroughly sure that they had everything they needed. Toby sat on the porch steps, elbows on his knees, hands beneath his chin, waiting to leave like a child.

“You sure you have everything Toby?” Sally asked him for the fourth time. Said Proxy sighed, he wasn't a complete child, he knew how to pack a bag. 

“Y-yeah Sal, I'm goo-d, I made sure everything I need-ed-ded was in my bag” he claimed, glancing over at the little girl who mimicked his position, her green gaze watching the other two Proxies. “Why do you have to be gone for so long?” she pouted, bottom lip sticking out for theatrics. Toby chuckled, reaching over with one hand and pulling her into his chest. 

“Fo-ur days is-is-is not t-t-that long” he claimed, carding his fingers through her burnett strands, blood constantly tangled the locks and Sally loved when Toby straightened them out. “It is to me!” she retorted, throwing herself onto the Proxy clinging to him with her arms around his neck.

Toby grunted at the sudden weight but smiled and laughed at her antics nonetheless. He still adored the little girl, cared for her as if she were the sister that he was missing in his life. He wanted nothing more then to snatch her up and run like a bat out of hell, away from the mansion, away from all the fuckers that lived there. But he knew she would never agree to such a thing, Sally had already grown a bond towards the hell hole, she would never abandon something so important to her. 

“Let's go Rogers.” Masky called to the twitching teen, closing the trunk of the car as he did so. Toby pulled the grip Sally held from around his neck, placing the small girl down with a kiss to her forehead. 

“I'll be-e back soon alright. Your not ev-ev-en gonn-na miss me be-b-being loud while I'm gone.” he patted her head before standing from his crouch. He turned to leave, finally climb in the car and go somewhere else, go somewhere he wasn't trapped or confused in. A small hand caught his jacket, Toby looked down at Sally, her green eyes staring intently at him. 

“You promise to come back right. You swear on it.” her tone was serious, no room for childish banter or false words. Toby swallowed thickly, she in no way going to let him leave until he promised, gave her his word that he would return. Sticking out his pinky, he linked the digit with her much smaller one. 

“I promise”.

Sally gave a big smile, blood sliding down the side of her face leisurely. She released Toby's pinky and hugged his waist tightly before turning and skipping back up the porch steps. She waved at the three, giving her sign of permission that Toby was now free to go. He had no idea when she became his means of judgment. 

“Toby!”

The Proxy found himself bombarded by a mass of human being just as he opened the back seat, drivers side door. Clockwork had thrown her arms loosely over his shoulders, leaned her weight on his own being and proceeded to kiss him deeply. Toby was taken by surprise, unsure how to respond, or where to put his hands. And just as before, he felt no sudden tingle in his toes, or boiling, churning feeling in his gut, nothing that indicated his immediate liking for the kiss.

Clockwork pulled back with a smile, green gaze staring up at the still bewildered Proxy. “Come back soon will ya, I won't be able to handle you being gone for so long. I'm gonna miss that obnoxious, loud mouth of yours.” She pecked said mouth ounce more before backing away from the Proxy, giving him a wink, she turned and made her way to the porch, putting a little more sway in her hips.

Sally gawked at the woman as she stood beside the young girl, green eyes wide, unknown emotions swirling in there depths. Toby slowly slid his way into the car, small smile forming on his lips. The thought of having someone actually have some sort of feelings towards him, other then the negative ones he was used to, sent the teen into a jittery, school kid crush sort of feeling. He smiled wider, biting onto his bottom lip, thinking of what he would be coming back to when the mission was complete.

Blood seeped onto his tongue and his smile faltered as he thought of what he would be coming back to when the mission was complete. He shook his head, no he wouldn't think of that, he refused. That was nothing. Nothing but trouble that he didn't need. 

Rolling down that window, he stuck his head out and smiled up at the two other Proxies. “You bo-ys comin’ or are we j-j-just gonna sit her-e forever?”.

Masky was dumbfounded by what he had witnessed, never thinking he would see something so horrific. He turned his gaze to his masked friend, he in turn just stared after Clockwork, head cocked at an angle as though he was trying to figure something out. Masky refused to try and figure any of it out, knowing he'd probably puke if he did. 

Shaking his head to try and rid himself of such an image, Masky climbed into the driver's seat, calling for Hoodie to do the same. Toby watched out the back window as the mansion grew smaller and smaller, the distance growing further as the car drove on. 

The trees on either side of the path looked just as ominous and foreboding as they did when Toby walked through them. Where or how the path they were now driving down came to be, Toby would never know the real answer. The Proxy was all for the idea that the Forest allowed them such an exit because they were granted permission. Any other chance at leaving and Toby knew that the trees would surround anyone that tried, swallowing them whole to be devoured by what lay within there shadows. 

The trees seemed to go on for hours on end, refusing to allow them freedom just yet. Toby was beginning to believe that this was all some sick joke that his subconscious had formulated to torment him in his dreams. But Masky pulled the car to a stop, parked and got out, followed quickly by Hoodie, who jumped into the driver's seat.

Toby watched as he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the padlock securing a rusted gate closed. He pushed open said gate just enough for Hoodie to pull the car through, before they repeated the process backwards. 

With the gate once again locked tight. The three were gone again, winding down a path where the trees were not as threatening. Not as life absorbing. The path took a long, curved direction, the drive smooth and unrelenting. Toby was to absorbed in the trees to notice them break away onto a rushing highway, other cars speeding by, not bothered in the slightest by the new arrivals. 

Toby smiled wide as they merged with the traffic, the windows sliding down, air filling the car. The radio was turned up at some point, but Toby didn't care. He was out, free from the crushing confusion that was the mansion and its occupants.

He was free.

* * *

[Join the Discord!!!](https://discord.gg/3z9rtuc)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: usage of homosexual slur (very slight), mentions of self hatred, descriptions of gore, and sexual content. ( If you do not wish to read the sexual scene there is no worry, it does not exactly go along with the plot so nothing will be missed. The content is separated by "^^^". Please if you do not like this sort of content, do not hurt yourself by reading!) Thank you!

**~ Chapter 16 ~**

  
  


He was bored.

The streets, trees and cars all began to blur together after the second hour, leaving Toby with nothing to do but stare out the window with his chin on his hand. 

With an exasperated sigh, Toby fell back onto the seat, sprawling himself out along the leather so he was staring up at the roof of the car. He was not enjoying this, no one had told him just how long it would take to get to their destination, or, well if they had told him, he doubted he was paying attention. With an over exaggerated groan, the twitching proxy rolled from the seats and fell into the floor boards with a thud. 

Hoodie leaned over in his seat, staring down at the younger Proxy from behind his mask, before shaking his head and returning to observing the map sprawled in his lap, its surface littered in red marker, indicating future job locations. 

“Get back in your fucking seat Rodgers. I'm not getting a ticket because of your stupid ass”. Masky snapped, not taking his eyes off the road. “Your one t-to talk, don't you thin-ink it's a little sus-s-spicious to dr-dr-dr-ive while wearing a mask? P-p-people probably think we're go-going to rob-rob a bank. Which, I wou-wouldn't be op-op-pposed to by the-the-the way” Toby chimed, sitting up on his knees still in the floor of the car, leaning on the center console. 

Masky tightened his grip around the steering wheel, his knuckles bleeding into a pasty white. “Sit back, and shut up” was his reply, leaving no room for argument. Toby huffed and slumped against the console, “w-who pissed in yo-your Cheeto bag?” the Proxy muttered, fumbling with the loose change left in the cup holders. Masky refused to reply, he told himself he would not encourage any of Toby’s pathetic attempts at causing his every waking minute to be a living hell, he would just sit back and let the little pest tire himself out. It was like he was stuck with a stray mutt that refused to stop trailing him, demanding attention and food, but refusing to be trained. 

This close confinement was driving him nuts, Toby could feel his patience slowly begin to fade away. The thin strand it had stretched into was beginning to snap as he ceased to do anything. The teen began to subconsciously gnaw at the tips of his fingers. Peeling back the skin bit by bit, the taste of iron hitting his tongue went unnoticed as Toby stared blindly out of the windshield. 

“Stain my car with your fucking blood and I'll kill you so damn slowly, I promise you will feel it” Masky growled darkly, hidden gaze staring intently at the twitching Proxy in the back seat. Toby gave an obnoxious groan, curling his fingers into his palm as a way to quell the bleeding. An urge to trail the bloody tips slowly across the soft leather and clean glass boiled on the surface of his gut. But Toby really did not want to put a pause in this already God awful trip. Allowing it to go on any longer then it had to seemed like an unneeded torture. 

Toby straightened himself in his seat, not bothering with a seat belt, and stared with a forlorn facade once again, into the passing traffic. He tried not to think to deeply on the fact he was in one of the death traps that he watched blurr past. He hated cars, despised them with a deep, personal, self-seeded hatred that he refused to rid himself of. They were a necessity, he could understand that, especially with long trips such as the one he and the two other Proxies were currently taking part in, a stable vehicle was in the requirements for the job. 

But that did not make it any easier for the Proxy to keep himself from going insane. 

“ _It's your own fucking fault_ ”.

“ **_If you didn't beg her to go, it would have never happened_ **”. 

“You fucking coward. Because of you, she's dead”. 

“ **_All burnt up, torn to shreds, broken, bloody and suffering!_ **”.

Toby felt his skull pounding as the voices howled in his head. He tapped against the glass of the backseat window, eye twitching, knee bouncing. The memories of... _that day_ tried to push themselves to the front of his mind. Clawing their way from the deep, black pit that Toby had shoved them into. They oozed with the black mass of dread and guilt that had slowly drowned the memories over the years. The puddle of grotesque muck swelled with the horrid images of Toby's deceased sister. Her sweet face littered with a disarray of shattered glass and debris, exposed bones and torn flesh were mixed with blood and black masses of putrid self-destruction. 

The ‘tap tap tap’ against the window pane became rapid, tense, frantic. The teen’s bitten nails kept the faint noise a constant background noise. Toby's neck popped, his wrist cracked, and he grinded his teeth together in order to distract himself from the churning storm forming in his head. 

Hoodie glanced over his shoulder at the younger Proxy. Taking in the shivering limbs, the sweat gathering on the young males skin, petaling his flesh with small pearls of salty perspiration. The senior Proxy considered himself a pretty good judge of character. He has spent years under the reign of the Operator, acting out the deeds for his master to the utmost precision. Most of his requirements were limited to the observation of their prey, the more...dirty work that came with the job was handled by Masky, who had a knack for violent acts. But it worked out to the Proxies advantages, Masky had the chance to have fun and play with their prey a little. While Hoodie watched, studied and recorded any and all abnormalities about an individual.

He has become quite the master at reading a person. From the slightest of twitch of a finger to the sweat the formed on an upper lip. He knew what exactly a person was feeling, what they were hiding, what truths they were or were not telling. 

But Toby. The little fuck. He was to much of a conundrum to try and comprehend. The teen kept himself under a very heavy lock and key. He was obnoxious, yes. Loud, annoying, stupid at most times. But, so God awfully mysterious that it was starting to piss even Hoodie off a bit. The hooded Proxy only knew what bit that the teens file had liberated. Which was only scratching the surface of the twitching males story. Hoodie wanted so desperately to gouge into Toby's thoughts, his memories, his fears. Wanted to see just what exactly made the boy...tick. He wondered deeply, as he stared curiously back at the momentarily self-absorbed teen, what those voices whispered inside of that mysterious head of his. What sort of sick, twisted fantasies ran through the teens mind. What kind of nightmares plagued the deepest, darkest corners of his brain. 

He returned to the map in his lap, ignoring the thumping of the teens foot against the floorboards, the insisting tapping against the window, the faint pop of a wrist or fingers, residing to the fact that he would most likely never figure the newest Proxy out.

Toby could feel Hoodie’s eyes on him, feel the hard look that the older Proxy was burning into the side of his head. He was used to stares, the curiosity, the fear. People have stared at him his whole damn life, judging him from afar, using their eyes to do Gods work. His classmates did it, strangers on the street, his father, even his own mother. Always staring. 

Just like he did when his sister died. 

“ **Your fault** ”. “ _Your fault_ ”. “ **_Your fault_ ** ”. “ _Your fault_ ”. “ **_Your fault_ **”. 

Toby clutched his head between his hands. He tried to focus on the engine humming under the hood of the car, the vibrations under his feet, the hushed conversation in the front seats. But the voices refused to let him focus on anything but them. 

In a fit of rage, the twitching Proxy slapped the flat of his palm hard against the side of his head. It scrambled the voices, sending them reeling. He slapped himself again before they could reform. Over and over and over, he did this. Refusing to sink any further into the mass that was swallowing him whole like a vengeful beast looking to destroy the thing that kept it caged for so long. 

He was unaware of the curses leaving his lips in whispered rage. The dark tone in which the teen was growling was sending the older Proxies into a tense, defensive mood. They hated how unpredictable the teen was. 

Toby did not register the rattling of pills as Hoodie leaned back and pulled an orange, unlabeled bottle from a bag in the floorboard. Nor did he comprehend his name being called as he continued to assault himself violently. Only when his wrist was grabbed in a vice grip did he turn his crazed gaze to the older Proxy. 

Hoodie jolted when Toby's hazel-gold eyes snapped towards him. Bloodlust, anger and hatred bubbled beneath their surface. “Here”, he mumbled, shoving two simple, white pills into Toby's hand. 

The twitching teen stared down at the pills. Knowing exactly what they were. He debated on rather or not forcing himself to sleep was the best course of action. Hoodie and Masky seemed to think that's exactly what he needed. But what the fuck did they know. 

The voices screamed at him, telling him they would dump him off somewhere as soon as he was out. That they would kill him while he was defenseless, while he couldn't fight back, while he was weaker then he already was. He figured it would not be to far fetched for the two to abandon him to the side of the road. To leave him for the elements and the cruelty of society to pick him apart. Like he was a dog that they had lost the sentiment for.

He downed both pills dry with that in mind. 

Masky always had the strongest shit to keep him sated. How he managed a precipitation for such things, Toby would never know. But within ten minutes, the twitching teen was out like a light. 

~~~~~

Toby was jeered from a hollow, bleak, dreamless sleep. His golden gaze focusing on the fading peach pink and blazing gold-orange of setting skyline. He let out a groan as he sat forward, resting his faintly pounding head in his hand. 

“About fucking time, we thought you were dead”. His still sleep muddled brain took a moment to process the face that was looking in on him from the outside of the cars window. Pale blue stared down at him, their depths swimming with boredom. Toby blinked a few times before he realized he was staring into the bare, smirking face of Masky.

The elder Proxy was leaned against Baby, said car idling in its parked position beside a gas pump. Masky braced himself on crossed arms that sat on the roof of the car, eyes leaving the twitching teen to lazily glance at the other vehicles in the station. Toby, having seen the Proxy maskless on a multitude of occasions, was quick to adjust to the new facade. 

The teen yawned, stretching his arms above his head as best he could with the limited space. He strained his muscles until he heard a satisfying ‘pop’ and felt the tension leave his back. His stomach gurgled to attention, announcing its need for nourishment, a need Toby refused or ignore. Draping himself over the center console with the least bit of grace he held, the teen faltered at the sight of the stranger in the passenger seat, the smile that had been forming on his lips vanishing as his eyes grew wide.

The Stranger sported a faint five o’clock shadow on their defined jawline, the stubble trailing slightly down a toned throat. A sharp nose sat between startling green eyes. Toby was not sure how to describe them, they were not bright enough to be compared to emerald, but they were far from being dark enough to the collage of foliage. Soft cheekbones were brushed by thick, dark lashes with every flutter of pale eyelids. The heat that spilled across the teens cheeks went unnoticed, but grew ever warmer when those irises worthy of being Persian jewels glanced at him. 

“I'm surprised your hungry, you ate all the snacks we packed in the cooler”. Toby was used to hearing that voice muffled by thick, black fabric. Used to staring into the blank, handmade stitches that were contorted to form a makeshift face of red thread. Used to the layers of clothing that covered every inch of flesh that was now exposed to him. He had never seen Hoodie for who he was beneath his mask, the Proxy always keeping himself enclosed behind the safety of his fabric, and it had always frustrated the teen to no end. But seeing him now, was like opening a poorly wrapped gift only to find the contents was far better then you had expected it to be.

“U-Um...y-y-yeah”. Toby cringed at his own words, cursing himself for seeming so flustered. What the hell was that? He wasn't some middle school girl hitting puberty two years later than all her friends, oggiling some pretty boy crush from across the hall like a display case full of donuts. Not that he thought Hoodie was pretty, of fucking course not. He didn't swing that way, he was a strictly bat and glove kind of guy only.

He peeled his gaze from the elder Proxy, gathering his wits before any unwelcome commentary could manifest inside his head. 

“If you gotta piss, now would be the time cause I don't plan on stopping again for the next four hours”, Masky’s proclamation broke the twitching teen from his shrouded self-doubt. And ultimately opened the floodgates of realization that had Toby scrambling from Baby’s backseat in favor of the unisex bathroom situated outside the convenient store. Never mind the fact that it was filthy, or that it was a terrible idea on the designers part, considering the weirdos who would most likely use the bathrooms multi-gender usage to their sick advantages. 

Five minutes later, Toby emerged from the restroom feeling comfortably lighter and relieved. His bladder no longer ached and his stomach still rumbled for food. A load of individually wrapped bags of snack sized chips and assorted fat cakes were shoved into his arms. An equally large mound of junk food sat in the curves of Hoodies own arms as he made his advances back to the car. Toby followed with a skip in his step and a large smile on his face. His need for fresh air was sated, at least for the moment and the fact he could shove his face with more food left a joyful tingle in his gut. 

By their second hour back on the road, more than half of the snack supply had already been eaten. Toby would never admit to being the culprit to the decline in fuel for the three of them. The twitching teen cracked open his fourth can of soda, the common spritz of fresh, carbonated diabetes settled on the Proxies. Toby did not immediately take a sip, he stared blissfully out the window at passing traffic, his foot tapping along to the beat of the radio and the vocals of Walker Hayes. 

Masky watched the road ahead of him. The headlights of his car and the red gleam of the car ahead of him guided him over the darkened asphalt. The familiar crack of an aluminum can had the Proxy tightening his hands on the steering wheel. He knew what the little shit sitting behind him was doing. Toby had started a game of obnoxiously slurping his drink and Masky was not in any mood to deal with the teens less than childish antics. 

Hoodie had the pleasure of dozing off half an hour before, his head braced against his forearm. And Masky was on the verge of giving up just about anything to be in the other man's position. The break lights ahead warned the upcoming halt in traffic, leaving the elder Proxy to sigh in annoyance and mutter a string of curses under his breath. He threw the car into park, knowing they would be stopped for more than as few minutes. 

The sudden, loud and atrocious gurgle of liquid forcefully being inhaled through pinched lips assaulted his ears. The Proxy whirled in his seat, straining against the seat belt holding him back from strangling the hysterically laughing teen in his backseat. 

“Your such a fucking shit Rogers! I'm going to kill you if you do it one more time!” Masky yelled, baring his teeth in a hate filled snarl. Toby giggled behind a lip bitten smile, leaning just out of reach of Masky’s snapping hands. He raised the can slowly, watching as pale blue widened at the blatant display of disrespect. 

“Don't you fucking dare”, the threat was eminent, but Toby’s blood was pumped full of four cans of carbonated sugar and artificially flavored gummy worms, threats only heightened his desire to cause havoc. But before he even had the chance to open his mouth, Masky lurched forward in order to grab the can, effectively knocking it from the teens hand, and spilling the rest of its content onto the floor boards. 

The silence that followed held a dark aura, and Toby realized he had fucked up. Even though, technically, it was Masky’s fault. Infuriated blue met concerned gold before hell broke loose between the two. Masky tore out of his seat belt, launching into the backseat to wrap his hands around the teens throat. Toby let out a surprised yell, grabbing fistfuls of brown curls and tan fabric. The two cursed each other left and right, scrambling for an advantage over the other in the small space they were struggling in. 

The rage and defence fueled squabble lasted mere minutes before a new pair of hands were reaching between the two feuding males. A grunt of discomfort left Masky as he was grabbed by the back of his neck, nails digging uncomfortably into his flesh. Toby was released from the strangling hold he was held down in, taking in gasps of air as his airways were cleared. 

“You two idiots need to knock it the fuck off!” the harsh words uncharacteristic of the previously sleeping Proxy. Hoodie had no need to raise his voice, the dark tone that clung to each syllable spoke volumes for the underlying anger that flared beneath his skin. He had been running on four hours of sleep for the past two days, and being woke by something as idiotic as his two car mates fighting in the backseat did not please him in the slightest.

“I don't know what the hell you've done now, but I frankly don't give a damn.” he directed a blazing glare towards Toby, “if either of you lay another hand on each other in this fucking car, I swear I'll put a bullet between both of your eyes. Am I clear?”

Toby was nodding his head in understanding, even before Hoodie had finished his speech. The older Proxy tightened his grip on Masky’s neck, said man wincing with the added pressure. “Am I clear, Timothy?”. 

Toby perked up at the new information, storing the name away for later use. A time when his life was not in any immediate danger. Masky on the other hand nodded his head as best he could, “f-fuck, yeah, I get it alright”. Hoodie considered the comment satisfactory and released the other man, leaving Masky to rub his bruising flesh as Hoodie crawled over into the driver's seat.

He took the car out of park and drove forward, the traffic had picked up considerably, and the honking horns had gone unnoticed by the bickering two. 

Masky said nothing as he crawled back into the front, taking refuge in his friends previous seat. A small pout had formed along his lips, a pout he would refuse to having till the day he died. Toby slumped back against his seat, he could feel the slight swell of his throat from the previous strangulation and he hoped his voice would not be too far gone the next morning. 

The remaining hour and a half went by without issue, the lingering threat of being murdered point blank still hung heavy in the confined space and even kept Toby from making an obnoxious scene on his need to take a piss. But the neon glow of the Motel they would be staying in for the remaining few days made the wait a little worth while. 

Toby was charging into the nearest bathroom before Hoodie even had the car properly parked. They did not bother with hauling in all their bags, that could wait till morning, it was nearing 11:30 and at the very least two of the three Proxies were desperate for sleep. It took a total of twenty-three minutes for them to get a room key. The short, overweight elderly woman situated at the check-in desk had eyed the trio with a poorly disguised sneer, examining each one of them from head to foot with squinting eyes. 

She did not ask any questions, why they were there, what their plans were, or how long they would be staying. She just snapped that at least one of them needed to write their name in the residence book, in which Masky took up the mantle scribbling down an alias in messy pen strokes, before nabbing the key the woman tossed onto the desk.

The Motel was mediocre at best. It seemed like the designer tried to hard to make it look like a high class place, only to go overboard and make it look worse than what could have been. The wallpaper in their room was stained an off yellow and the roof had enough leak stains to cause a worry for possible cave-ins. 

Hoodie face planted onto the nearest of the two beds situated in the small space as soon as he was through the door. Toby made a move for the second but was swiftly pushed aside by Masky. 

“Don't even think about it Rodgers, you've been causing problems the whole trip here, you sleep on the floor tonight.” the older Proxy snapped in a hushed tone, keeping his voice low as to not disturb Hoodie. Toby glared at the older male, feeling a spike in his rabid instincts to defend what he wanted. Why did he have to be treated like a dog who did something wrong? Masky was just being a little bitch because the floorboards of his car were sticky. The whole soda incident was not even his fault, well for the most part anyway, it wasn't fair that he received the brunt of that situation. 

“ **_Kill him_ ** ”, “ show him that he shouldn't fuck with you ”, “ **take what you want!** ”. The idea of sinking his blades into Masky’s skull were snarled in his head. Egging him on to rid himself of the bastard. He clutched his bag tighter in his fists, his hatchets resting snuggly inside, in easy reach, all he had to do was unzip the zipper. “ **_Tear him open! Kill him!_ **”

Toby turned on his heel and stalked into the bathroom that had been poorly added onto the room almost as though it was a half added afterthought, and slammed the door closed. Locking himself inside. 

The television switched on, Toby could make out the muffled sounds through the door. He glared back at his own reflection in the chipped mirror, the nightlight plugged into the wall his only illumination, hating what he saw staring back. He hated how fucked up he was. Hated the urges he felt to screw people over the way he does, in the end he just hurts himself more. He drove people away, hurt them before they had the chance to the same to him.

He didn't miss the soft touches the two older Proxies shared from time to time. The moments were he thought they were going to grab the others hand and hold it tight on their drive here, but realized they had an audience and moved away from the idea. Sure he would fuck around with them, throw in a snide comment or two but he wouldn't bash them completely. He didn't give two shits who fucked who. He just like the idea of having someone there to pillar the insanity and destruction that filtered through him day by day. And if he had to watch it happen between others, he would watch until he understood. 

But it was obvious between Masky and Hoodie, that whatever they had, it was a private matter. Something only they had with each other. Something they shared with no one else. And Toby supposed there were some things he could not even push himself to interfere with. 

He released a sigh, pushing away from the mirror and crawling into the fake porcelain tub. He traced the soapscum ring around the edge, curling further in on himself, hoping for another dreamless sleep.

~~~~~

^^^

Toby sighed as he flipped onto his side. The muscles in his back protested his movement as he tried to get a more comfortable position in his makeshift bathtub bed.

  
  
After hitting his elbow for the fifth time, the Proxy exited the bath, stretching until his spine gave a satisfying pop, the tension he felt moments ago melting away. The night light was still shining bright in the corner, guiding the Proxy away from his tub and in front of the mirror once again.

  
  
He had been sleeping on and off for what he guessed to be a good five hours, the dark circles beneath his eyes were still just as prominent. Toby pouted at his own reflection, what he wouldn't give for just a few extra hours of sleep.

  
  
His stomach growled in that instant, demanding to be filled with sustenance. An order Toby would forever struggle to deny. Reaching for the bathroom handle, the twitching teen suddenly paused in his forgoings. He could make out muffled noises on the other side of the door, the sounds to lively to be television.

  
  
Toby's brows furrowed when he heard a particularly loud grunt. The teen was always one for curiosity, and he was clicking open the door slowly before he could stop himself. He did not fully open the door, but he did not have to. His eyes widened considerably as he watched the scene before him.

  
  
Even though the two beds in the room had been claimed by both older Proxies, only one was being occupied. Hoodie lay on his back, the blankets kicked aside to make room. Masky was draped over him, face buried in the side of his neck, hips rocking forward in a constant rhythm against Hoodie's ass.

  
  
Hoodie had his legs secured tightly around Masky’s hips, heels digging into the small of his back to pull him closer. His hands were buried in Masky’s light brown curls, mouth open, releasing small sighs of pleasure and the occasional grunt when Masky gave a sharp snap of his hips.

  
  
Masky leaned up from his position, still strong in his pivoting motions, his jeans were unbuckled and hanging loosely off his hips, belt clinking with every move.

  
  
"F-fuck Bri, you feel...fuck, so good", Masky mumbled caressing his friends skin with a touch Toby had only seen him use with his car. Hoodie gave a hum as he reached up and kissed Masky fiercely, pulling back slowly, Masky’s bottom lip between his teeth, green gaze boring into blue.

  
  
"F-flip", Hoodie grunted out with a breathy moan when he finally released Masky’s lip, pecking it once more before pulling away. Masky, pulled away from his friend, cock sliding free, swollen head twitching in the cool night air. Hoodie turned onto his stomach, raising his hips for Masky to take hold of.

  
  
Masky pulled Hoodie’s hips up higher, sliding back into his burning heat with a grunt, starting up a rhythm even fiercer than the one before. He slid his hands up from Hoodie’s hips, along his sides, down his arms before interlocking their fingers. 

  
Hoodie's eyes were half lidded, legs spreading just a bit wider for Masky. Toby could feel his body trembling, his bones shaking beneath his skin. His breath hitched when he caught Hoodie's vibrant green eyed gaze staring at him from the bed, for a moment neither did a thing, Masky oblivious to his audience. 

  
Toby had figured Hoodie would call him out, yell at him at least for witnessing something so intimate. Instead, and to the teens complete surprise, he smirked at Toby's dumbstruck expression, sending the younger Proxy a wink before his mouth fell open giving off a lewd moan, his eyes rolling back.

  
  
Toby couldn't do this, he couldn't watch any more. He hurriedly shut the door back, locking it and sliding down the frame. What the hell was wrong with him, he was fucking disgusting, watching something like that without caring who it was. He could hear his father's voice in his head, calling him disgusting, a pervert, a f*ggot.

  
  
“ **But you enjoyed it.** ”, “ Don't lie to yourself. ”, “ **_Go ahead. Watch some more._ **”. Toby shook his head against the voices, trying his damndest to ignore their words. He was not that kind of person, he didn't get off on that sort of thing. He, he wasn't gay, he didn't like dick. 

He, he....fuck, he was hard. 

He whimpered silently to himself on the tile floor. His erection pressing against the inside of his jeans. He could still hear the two other Proxies groaning and whispering to each other. The bed creaking just slightly.   
  
“ Go ahead Toby. ”, “ **It's only natural. Your a growing boy.** ”, “ _Sex noise just turns you on. Hormones._ ”, “ **_Think of Clockwork_ ** ”.   
  
The teen squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned his forehead against his arm which was resting against the door. His free hand fumbled with the zipper of his jeans, pulling at the small piece of metal until it gave way. His pants button came next and he hissed when his cock hit the cool bathroom air.   
  
Cum had already begun to bead on the head from their noise alone and Toby could feel his last strings of control snapping away. Biting into his arm, the Proxy ran his hand slowly along his length, thumbing at the head and swirling the pre-cum gently.   
  
He shuddered, it had been a long while since he touched himself last. And he would have never imagined this was how he would get back into the swing of things. He heard a pretty loud cry of pleasure muffle its way through the door and he squeezed himself slightly, moaning into his arm as he jerked his hand up and down.   
  
He tried, oh fuck did he try to conjure up thoughts of Clockwork. Her body slick with sweat, bare, waiting for him. But the tingling feeling in his gut was quenched by the ideas. He forced them on anyway, focusing more on the sounds in the room then his own imagination.   
  
He never realized how burnett locks darkened to black, chard strands. Light tan skin, becoming pale, patched, burnt, scarred flesh. How the fire in his belly began to heat and spread. He breathed hard through his nose, his teeth sinking into his arm, blood and drool sliding down his chin. His hand stroked faster, pre-cum dribbling down his cock, lubricating each jerk of his wrist.   
  
Quiet moans vibrated in his throat, tears pooled in the corners of his eyes and slid down his cheeks. His hips jerked forward into his hand, and he needed more air. Releasing his arm he threw his head back and panted, biting into his lip as his gut tightened, hot, burning coils pinching together.   
  
"F-fuck. Ah...J-Je, ha hmmm" the coils inside him released their grip, and Toby felt his release hit him hard. Cum splattered his hand and chest, the Proxy continuing to work his cock until he was spent.   
  
He dropped his hands onto the tiled floor. Leaning his head against the cool wood of the door he breathed deeply, golden eyes closed softly. His body felt airy, light as nothing. He had never felt so satisfied before, he could almost hear; "good job Twitchy" whispered in his ear, could almost feel the phantom texture of tongue slide across his sweaty neck. A small smile played across his lips.   
  
He had never felt so satisfied.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: USE OF DEROGATORY TERM. MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE. OVERALL LANGUAGE.

**~ Chapter 17 ~**

  
  


Toby woke from a surprisingly, dreamless sleep. He was sprawled out on the bathroom floor, back aching and bones creaking as he sat up, but well rested nonetheless. It was a surprise to the twitching Proxy to have no ache behind his eyes or force his heavy lids to stay open the first few blinks after waking. But even the lack of sleep deprivation and push of a well rested bodily system did not keep the embarrassing, humiliating remembrances of the night before from curling his gut into a knotted mass of self hatred and regret. It did not matter to the teen that the release he had experienced was one of the best he had had in months. 

He sat on the dirty tiled floor for a long amount of time, unacknowledged minutes ticking by, knees curled up against his chest, face buried in his palms as he tried to force himself to forget his actions all while reliving them vividly in his head. He jerked out of surprise when a series of knocks echoed against the bathroom door, breaking him from his first mental turmoil of the day.

“Toby, it's 10:30. Time to rise and shine.” Hoodie’s voice was muffled by the door, but recognizable to the teen even through his self decrepit thoughts. Toby was unsure how he would be able to face the two other Proxies, how would he look at them now that he had seen them at their most intimate moment, their most vulnerable. ‘With much difficulty’ he thought as he hauled himself up from the floor, taking a moment to relieve his bladder of the nightly build up. He took his time trying to tame his tangled hair, hoping to at least find something else to distract his thoughts before he entered out into the room. 

Toby inhaled deeply as he placed his hand on the knob of the door, he could do this, no big deal. All he saw was the two Proxies fucking, no shame in that, nevermind he used their noise as fuel to his own sick imaginations. That was not his fault, he was still a young individual, his body strove off of sexual endeavors as much as it did food. It was a necessity at this point in his life. So technically it was Masky and Hoodies fault he got all worked up. Yeah, it was their fault. He had no choice in the matter.

That’s what he told himself at least.

The Proxy exhaled the breath that had begun to burn his lungs, the lock clicked from its home and Toby pushed the door open. The television was still playing, the busty blond reporter muted as she showed the remains of a burned down building. The caption read ‘ _ Yet another home mysteriously burned during the night _ ’. Toby scanned the room, hazel gold gaze sweeping over the two beds, both had the sheets and comforters pulled tight across the mattress, they sat neat and clean, as if neither had been slept in...or used for other purposes. Hoodie sat on the edge of one, unmasked head bowed and back hunched as he read over the files that were the cause for this whole trip across country. 

“Morning.” Hoodie mumbled, not looking up from the papers in his hand. Toby swallowed thickly, a cracked and small sounding “mornin’” left his mouth. Bright green glanced up at the younger male, taking in the awkward stance, the shuffling of converse covered feet, the fidgeting of hands that Toby tried to hide deep in his pockets. Hoodie sighed, finding himself placing the file down on the bed space beside him. He stood slowly, and with all the grace of a well balanced feline on the hunt for its prey. He was without his oversized sweatshirt at the moment, the plain grey, short sleeved v-neck rode up as the Proxy stretched his tense back muscles to expose a pale toned strip of stomach that Toby found his gaze trailing to unexpectedly. 

The younger Proxy’s eyes quickly snapped back up as Hoodie sauntered forward, hands sliding into his pockets, head tilted just slightly as he watched Toby with curious jade jewels. Toby gulped as Hoodie came to a halt just inches away from him, he could not help but dart his eyes back and forth between the floor and the exposed skin of the older man's neck and chest. Small, red and purplish bruises decorated the pale flesh leaving heat to spread across Toby’s cheeks. 

“You alright Toby?” Hoodie asked, his voice layered in curiosity that masked the small thrill of amusement and anticipation the man felt while waiting on the twitching teens reply. Toby opened his mouth, searching for the words but unable to let them fall. His mouth closed, then opened again a few more times before he finally sealed his lips shut, settling for a hesitant nod. Hoodie felt his shoulders droop a little, he was hoping for more of a reaction. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” Toby flinched at the words, staggering back as his hazel gold gaze widened and stared at the older man. A nonchalant facade settled on Hoodies continence, giving no signs of what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Hoodie took another step forward, only for Toby to take two steps back, well attempt to anyway. The younger Proxy moved to quickly, leaving his heel of one shoe to catch on the toe of his other, sending him teetering backwards. A strong grip snapped around his wrist, pulling Toby back into a balanced state. Hoodie kept his grip on the teens thin wrist, pulling him closer. 

“It’s ok Toby, there’s no need to be afraid or embarrassed. It felt good right?” a shiver went down the teens spine as Hoodies lips brushed his ear, the older mans breath drifting along the skin of his neck. Sweat beaded along Toby’s forehead, his fingers shook at his sides and the lower lid of his left eye twitched. Did...did Hoodie know what he did in the bathroom? That he...no, no he couldn't know. “ **_He knows, of course he does. He’s fucking with you._ ** ” his breath hitched, his lungs constricted, why was it so much harder to breath? “I-I-I d-don’t know what yo-your talking-talking-talking-talking about” Toby forced the words over his heavy tongue, feeling the pressure building in his skull as the voices fought over one another, screamed and yelled in order to whisper dirty little lies into his ears. 

His wrist was suddenly released, his cheek patted softly as Hoodie gave him a small smile, one that lit up his face and made his already bright eyes shine brighter. “Don’t worry about it Toby. I should thank you honestly, I have a thing for showing off but Masky doesn't exactly find it appealing, so that was the best fuck I’ve had in years” the older male spoke lightheartedly, turning on his heels and stalking back over to the bed, plopping down with a small bounce and picking back up the files. Toby could only stare, a mix of confused emotions swirled around in his gut, drowning the voices in a concoction of relife, frustration and slight surprise. 

Hoodie did not berate him, yell or accuse him of not knowing how to mind his own business. He was not going to be hit across the head, or kicked in the gut for using the pleasures of the two older men to his own twisted fantasies. He was not going to be called disgusting, horrible, a f*ggot. Toby felt a weight suddenly leave his shoulders, the suffocating grip that clutched at his lungs, squeezed the organs until they felt as though they were about to burst, was gone. He could breathe freely again. “Just don’t mention anything to Masky. Like I said, he doesn't like an audience. Prefers his sins to be left to himself” Hoodie spoke up from the bed, not looking back at the younger male. 

“D-do...do you g-gu-uys do that on every-every trip?” Toby asked, taking a seat on the opposite bed. It was not often he had a conversation with older man, Hoodies time being taken up by requests from the Slenderman or Masky always breathing down Toby’s neck. A small smile slipped back onto Hoodies lips, “most of the time, yeah. We don’t exactly get much free time back at the mansion. Plus the walls are really thin, and like I said, Masky likes his privacy” Hoodie liberated, taking a pen and marking through some of the information on the papers in his hands. Toby nodded along with the answer, he knew just how thin the walls were, Jeff and Eyeless made quick explanation of just how thin they were. 

At the thought of the smiling killer, Toby felt his heart beat faster. He could lie to himself all that he wanted, drown out his true desires with half cooked lies that layered the truth in a weak, overly sweet icing of complete bull shit. The killer had planted a seed in the Proxy the moment they had met, a seed that had slowly begun to sprout shrap, jagged thorns and suffocating vines that wrapped their way around Toby’s ribs, and pierced his heart with every rythmic beat it gave. The twitching teen wished he could gouge out the bloody flowers that imbedded themselves in his lungs and filled his throat with petals that choked him with every breath. But they had dug themselves to deep and Toby was not sure if he would ever be free of them.

It was another thirty minutes before Masky returned, baring gifts from the McDonalds from across the street. The room was instantly filled with the smell of sausage and egg muffins and hashbrowns. Toby was tossed a bag donned with the yellow arched emblem, an apple juice box hitting him the head seconds after. But Toby was to busy chowing down on a breakfast sandwich to snap out an insult or retaliate. Masky handed Hoodie a cup of coffee as he sat beside of the other man, reading the papers over his shoulder. Toby watched as the two older Proxies had a quiet conversation between each other, chewing his food slowly. They seemed to be in their own separate world, communicating in a way Toby knew they had acquired through years of partnership. This left the teen remembering he was the outsider, the newcomer, the one that intruded on their space. On their routine. 

This left Toby feeling out of place and he began to fidget on his occupied bed. He had only felt such a way once before, when he was still trapped in the repetitive, overbearing clutches of his public educational system. He of course never had the pleasure of fitting into the school scene, his constant twitches kept people at a noticeable distance, though their whispers and harsh words were always close enough to stab the teen in the back. He had always hated that feeling of isolation, never having a friend, someone to speak to, even his teachers did their best to avoid him if they could. The only one who ever treated him like he was normal, was Lyra. 

His neck cracked at the thought of his sister, his appetite slowly dissipating the more he let his mind wander. The sandwich in his shaking fist was forgotten, his hazel gold gaze staring out at nothing in particular, his pupils reflecting the still muted television that had begun to play mindless commercials. He did not know when he had become so used to being ignored, left alone, forgotten. His mother would always turn away when his father beat him, maybe that was when it started. When the person he thought was supposed to love him the most, protect him no matter what; turned her back. 

“-oby. Toby!”. The twitching Proxy jolted at the shout of his name, his eyes snapped to Masky who looked back at him with an annoyed look on his face. “Huh?” Toby asked stupidly, causing Masky to roll his eyes in annoyance. “You got your shit ready? We’re heading out” blue eyes stared down the teen as Toby stuffed the rest of his breakfast in his mouth just to do something with it and not so much to quench the last bits of his hunger. Toby hurried back into the bathroom, snatching his hatchet belt from the floor beside the tub, slipping it back around his waist and buckinling it as he returned to the open space. 

“We keep things on the downlow, understand Rogers” Masky stated more then asked, slipping his mask into a backpack. Hoodie clicked the magazine into his gun, pulling back the slide and loading the chamber with a single bullet before placing it in the waistband of his jeans and covering it with the edge of his hoodie. “Y-yeah, I got it Timothy” Toby stated happily, giving the blue eyed man a bright smile. Masky glared at the teen with a look that could have scorched Toby’s skin if it were possible. “Don’t get used to that shit Rogers” Masky hissed, zipping up his bag with more force than necessary and stomped his way passed the Proxy, shoving him out of the way as he went. 

Toby just smiled after the pissed off man. “A-a-a-and you let him fu-uck you?” Toby asked lowly, turning to the remaining man. “He se-ems more like the-the bitch to me, Hoodie” the teen claimed, watching as said Proxy slung his own bag over his shoulder, grabbing Toby’s off the floor and tossing it to the teen with a chuckle. “He ain’t so bad once he gets his dick in someone” Hoodie laughed as he walked past Toby, he reached out and grabbed at the teens chin, making hazel gold stare up into his green jewels in surprise. “ And its Bryan from here on out, until I say otherwise, alright Toby”.

Toby felt his cheeks heat up at the close proximity, the tone in which Hoodie used and the hot breath that smelled of coffee fan across his face. He gave a short nod. Hoodie gave a smile, releasing the teen with a wink before stalking over to their motel door and holding it open. Toby followed the man with a lazy gaze, still unsure on how he should feel about him. A part of the Proxy found the attention exhilarating while the other half wanted to cut off the man’s hands with every touch. “You coming?”. Toby jumped to attention, hurrying from the room, deciding he would dwell on it later as the door was slammed closed behind him.

~~~~~

The Proxies traveled the small, rinky dink town that they were posted in. Taking in the basic cookie cutter scenario one might find in a backwater place like this. Buildings and homes right on top of each other, neighbors knowing neighbors and you can not step one foot on the sidewalk without running into your moms, friends, cousins, aunts, sister twice removed. Asking ‘how is school going’ or ‘you havn’t gotten married yet? A pretty thang like you?’. It was all pathetic really, a type of place Toby grew up in. A type of place he hated. These were the cesspools that breeded hatred, that ate off of gossip and lies. The types of places that strove to pick out those who were not of the norm, who broke the sacred chains of normalcy and set rules put together by society and shunned the misplaced until they snapped. 

Toby no longer wondered what drove their current target to be of the Slenderman’s interests. Now that he entered and observed the town in which she grew, he understood her misgivings. The Proxies did not bother with driving through the square, knowing that a new car added into the crochete of minivans and Altamas would raise suspicion. But that was fine, they all worked better from the shadows anyway, getting a feel for the little shops and oblivious population from the alleys in which they lurked. They would be inhabiting the small area for a day or two before they made the proper move to nab their target. 

The tightly packed shops made for a greatly appreciated network of a maze like fortress in which the Proxies navigated. Toby mostly followed behind the older men, Hoodie leading the way as he was best with direction. The shops began to dwindle away as they continued onward, the back alleys morphing into small cubbies that either led you out into the open streets or provided the safe cover of the nearby forest. The pavement that Toby watched as he walked was filled with cracks, weeds both a lively green and depressing dead brown erupted from the disfigured concrete. The twitching Proxy made it a challenge for himself to step on every shard of glass that came across his path, he enjoyed the way it felt when his shoes pressed down on the shards, feeling them crack and crumble, hearing them snap like fragile bones beneath his assaults. 

Because of his game, the teen missed the halt in the older men ahead of him, he smacked straight into Masky’s back, sending the man stumbling forward. Masky whirled on the teen, staring him down with a pissed off gleam sparking in his blue eyes, “this isn’t a fucking game Rogers! Either focus on what we are doing or your ass will stay locked in that filthy motel bathroom for the remainder of the trip” Masky hissed, causing Toby to take a step back. The thought of being trapped within such a confined space for more then he wanted sent a panic down to his toes. Sure, he had spent the previous night in the bathtub, locked within said space. But that was of his own free will, he had the ability to come and go from the room as he pleased, to be locked inside without a way out, that was what scared him. 

“ **Kill him** ”. “ _ Bury your hatchets in his skull _ ”. “ **_He does not decide what we can and cannot do!_ ** ”. “ _ Break his legs and stuff him in a fucking box _ ”. 

The voices all chimed at once in Toby’s head, as soon as Masky turned back to speak with Hoodie, Toby felt his fingertips brush the cool metal of his weapons sitting patiently around his waist. He could do it, right then and their, drive the blades home and splatter Masky’s brains across the brick walls. He would run after, run fast and far. And then what. He would have nowhere to go, he would be alone. Alone in a world that had already chewed him up and spit him out once. He knew this time, it would swallow him whole and he would be stuck melting in the acid of its cruel societies and hatred driven populations. 

“Wh-y did we s-s-stop?” he settled on the question. Pushing the dark thoughts down along with the screaming voices. He stepped up next to Hoodie, staring out across the open road and through the chain link fence that surrounded a drab looking school. The brick walls it was constructed from were covered in outside mold and mildew from years of rain and other assaulting forms of nature. The sight of the place gave Toby chills, it had been a good, long while since he had been in school, the experience none to enticing. His fingers twitched, his neck popped and his shoulder bounced at the memories that surfaced. Taunts, laughter, bullies. All the harsh attacks on his person, both physically and verbally had left a scar on the teen. On both his flesh and on his mind.

“Our charge goes to the school across the street, she should be entering her third period class as we speak” Hoodie claimed, gaze boring into the dingy school building as though he would be able to peer straight through the walls. Toby stared out at it as well, the whole structure sending chilling reminders of what he had to go through day after day. It left him wondering if it would be such a terrible thing to burn the place down. “Might as well get comfortable Rogers, were going to be here for a while”, Toby cut his gaze to Masky, a look of surprise and disappointment flooding the hazel gold. “Y-y-your kid-kid-kid-kidding me right” he stated with an unbelievable tone.

Masky gave nothing in answer, leaving Toby to huff and kick a stray bottle across the alley, the glass connecting with the nearby wall and shattering into a heap of sharpened shards. The older Proxies ignored his miniature tantrum, letting the teen act like a bratty child as they went back to conversing with each other. Toby felt that familiar itch in the back of his mind, that crushing weight settle in his stomach at once again feeling absent in the inner circle of those around him. Leaving him out in the open like a helpless, lonely animal. 

Toby slid down one of the cracked, brown bricked walls, pulling his knees up to his chest and watched the two older men. He felt like a helpless child in a way. Very confused on the feelings he was struggling to suppress. The incident the night before still cutting into his brain, like a serrated pair of scissors were cutting a little notch into his skull and placing a broken movie projector inside, his night time escapade being played over and over on a never ending loop. He felt helpless, and confused and to afraid to ask for help. 

Who would he ask? Hoodie had specified he definitely should not bring it up with Masky, not that the teen would anyway. The bastard would most likely gut him on the spot and laugh down at his corpse. Hoodie had said he should not worry about it. Yeah. If only it were that easy. Toby found himself playing with one of the glass pieces, twirling it around in his hands as his mind continued to wander. 

“ **Your pathetic** ”. “ _ Weak _ ”. “ **Nothing but a lost child, waiting to be eaten alive** ”.

Toby felt the blood pool in his palm and slide down his wrist before he realized he had cut himself. He released his tight grip on the glass. Letting the blood stained shard fall back into a pile with the others. He stared down at the separated pieces of skin, watching as red swelled from between them as he pulled them further apart, wondering why he felt nothing on the outside, all while his insides twisted and churned with confused and resentful emotions. He supposed that was his curse, to live out his days eternally suffering, he was not allowed to feel the pain of the outside world on his flesh so he was given the opportunity to struggle with uncontrollable, unexplainable and unpredictable bursts of heart wrenching, gut twisting, blood freezing emotions that he neither wanted nor believed he needed.

As his mother used to say; ‘that's just how God intended you to be, baby’. Toby did not know what kind of God would allow such suffering. On anyone not just him. Hell, Toby wondered how any God would allow a creature as wretched as he was, to roam the face of the Earth. But he figured that sometimes. Even God made mistakes.

~~~~~

The sudden, high pitched scream of the afternoon bell had Toby jolting from his slouched position on the broken concrete. He had fallen asleep well into their second hour of scouting, knowing for certain that it would be a long wait before anything truly happened. The twitching Proxy felt a phantom wave of chills travel down his spine at the sound of the bell. It held the same pitch as the one he would listen to day after day when he was still in highschool. It would never cease to give the teen jarring flashbacks of the days he was brutally beaten, insulted, humiliated and shoved head first into a toilet. Yes, they still did that. 

“Let's go Rogers. She’s on the move”. 

Toby wobbled to his feet, feeling the slight tingle of blood circulating back into his toes. He trudged up beside the two older men. Scanning the growing sea of high schoolers just starting their journey into prepubescent hormones and teen angst. His gaze was quick to scope out the girl he was searching for. She looked simple, average, she did not stick out or emit any sort of attracting aura. Basic brown hair, plain pale face yet to lose the baby fat of younger years. She walked from the front doors and across the school yard, hands gripping tightly to her book bag straps as she went. No one followed her, no one gave her a passing glance. And yet, she still kept her shoulders hunched forwards, kept her strides quick. Toby knew those actions, he had performed them himself many, many times before. That was the poster of a broken human, one that feared the outside world more than their own inner demons.

The three Proxies followed her every move, twisted and turned through every curve of the alleys and back streets that concealed them from prying eyes. They kept track of her path to home, memorizing the street names and number of steps it took to get to the next. At one point, the three ran out of concrete cover and entered the sanctuary of the trees. Thick shadows and foliage obscured their presence from any who may glance in their direction as they followed their charge into a miniature suburb. The houses were exactly alike, though evenly spaced unlike their much larger cousins closer to big cities. Their charge lived in a two story, white house. Number 203 on Bleeker Street. From their position in the trees, atop a small raised crest of rock and oaks, the Proxies had a clear vantage point to observe the entirety of her backyard and the windows on the back of the house.

Her quickened pace grew to soft, hesitant steps as she drew near to her own home. The twitching Proxy’s suspicions were proven correct at the sight of her actions. She was terrified of her own home, or more likely what laid inside, of the monsters that hid beneath her bed or her closet. Or of the one that stalked the halls day and night, Toby was not sure of which it could be at the moment. But he knew the fear that clutched at the girls tense shoulders, he had felt those icy claws once before to. The trio watched as she disappeared inside, setting down their bags, the Proxies got comfortable, expecting a long night.

She lived with five brothers and associated with none of them unless she had to. She had locked herself in her room, which the three had a perfect view of from their vantage point. A lucky break or mere coincidence, Toby was not sure. But as they observed her, the twitching Proxy was unsure as to why they were keeping tabs on her. She did her homework, every single sheet, something Toby remembered never doing, and was left alone to her own devices. Her brothers slowly drifted home from whatever their daily escapades had persisted of, going their separate ways and proceeding to their own entertainment. The Proxies charge continued to hold herself up in her room, drowning out the occasional shouting and pointless wrestling matches between her brothers with music and mindless internet scrolling on the computer situated in the corner of her room. 

Toby grew bored quickly, falling back in the dirt and staring up at the leaves and patches of darkening sky he could see through the thick branches above. He did not know how Masky or Hoodie could continuously do this for hours. His ass was going numb from sitting on the ground for so long. As the sun went down, the air grew colder, Toby’s breath came in small bursts of white clouds. The teen entertained himself by blowing long streams of clouds into the wind until his lungs ached. He enjoyed watching as the clouds swirled and danced on the breeze like smoke.

As the hours ticked by, the three Proxies switched out on who would watch the house and who would rest. At first, it was just Masky and Hoodie switching out between each other, much to Toby’s annoyance, but soon the two grew too tired to continue and Hoodie finally convinced Masky to let Toby take a turn. And the binoculars were placed in the teens twitching hands. But, things continued on as they had for the last four hours. The brothers would migrate between the living room, kitchen and the bathroom. It seemed without their mother, there was no course of dinner preparation and all things from the fridge and the cabinets were up for grabs. Toby had grown excited when at one point their charge had slowly exited her room, bypassing two of her brothers fighting over the t.v remote and slunk into the kitchen. She raided the cabinets just as hungirly and wild as her siblings, eventually settling on a box of cereal which she ate on her way back up to her room.

It was late before her step father even returned home, around nine his car pulled into the drive. He to was average, brown hair, forgettable face, Toby saw nothing unique about him, about her, about her family or her life. He just did not understand. The father was greeted by which ever boys were in the living room, he disappeared up the stairs, out of sight of any of the windows. And things continued on as they were. 

Late night drifted into early morning, Hoodie had switched with Toby around 12:30. Half an hour later Masky woke from a light sleep to take his friends place. The cycle came back around to Toby at four in the morning and the teen sat in the dirt, drawing pointless shapes in the dust with the tip of a pocket knife he took from Masky’s backpack, his other hand resting against his chin in boredom. Hours before, when the family had slowly drifted off to sleep one at a time, Toby had taken the time to read over their charges file, having forgotten her name. MacKenzie Conner, Toby had said the name over and over in his head, the words had a ring to them, the way they rolled off his tongue and pierced the air in a simple poetic kind of scroll. It was a common name, but a delicate sort of ferocity followed it. It left him wondering about her, how she was as a person, beneath the hard shell of fear and hatred that she had built up around her softer interior in order to protect herself. Was she sarcastic, cruel, kind, mischievous, accepting or criticizing. Toby was left thinking of the possibility that if he had the chance to interact with her, he would enjoy actually knowing her. Deep down the Proxy knew that was just his sleep deprived brain conjuring up possibilities to sooth the lonely pins and needles that stabbed at his gut, but the thoughts were nice to have and kept him from dwelling on other enquiries.

His dulled hazel gold eyes drifted over the Charges…’MacKenzie’s’, he corrected himself, window. He ended up doing a double take when the soft glow of the hallway light pierced the dark interior of her room. A broad shouldered silhouette blocked most of the light, the black mass staggered forward in a drunken dance Toby had memorized the steps to long ago from watching his father night after night down bottles of various alcohols. The Proxy grabbed the binoculars that had sat by his crossed legs, sitting up straight and focusing in on the window, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched MacKenzie’s father stumble over piles of clothes and the girls school bag. She of course was oblivious to the man, having closed her eyes to the night and began a journey through subconscious worlds.

Her father sat on the edge of her bed, staring down at her sleeping form. He rocked just slightly, his body off balanced from his intoxication. Toby felt his hands shaking as he clutched the binoculars tighter, his fingertips growing white as the man's hand drifted over her blanket covered hip. MacKenzie shifted in her sleep, the touch drawing her back up from the deep sea of dreams. Toby watched as the girl became conscious and aware of the man in her room, of the hand sliding along her body through the comforter she kept pulled tight around her being. She drew herself up into a sitting position, pulling the blanket further around herself spitting out words Toby could not read, her father reached out to touch her face, she retaliated with a kick to his stomach, knocking him from her bed. Toby felt his stomach churn as he grabbed her exposed leg, using it to pull her from her protective position and lift himself back up onto the sheets. 

Toby felt bile rise up his throat, he may have been a murderer, killed a multitude of people and will continue on to do so. But he prided himself on still holding some type of morals, however twisted they may be. He had never had sex before, something he was not necessarily proud of but it was cruel fact nonetheless. Even so, the teen had a problem with forced sexual actions. He had a very deep seeded aggression towards individuals who forced their sexual urges on those unwilling. His father had never been a rapist, still, Toby had hated the man but he hated sexual predators even more if he thought it possible. The thought of men and women alike going out and deliberately forcing someone else, male or female, to accept intercourse by force left behind a putrid taste in the teens mouth. And the Proxy hated himself for dropping the binoculars and turning away from the horrendous scene unfolding before him.

His hands shook, neck popped and shoulders hitched as his imagination took to the wind and conjured up the attack that was happening to the girl at that moment. For a moment, Toby could have sworn that he heard a muffled scream rip through the silent night. Tearing its way into his heart, into his soul. He fell back against a tree, hands clutching at the sides of his head as he tried to push away the thoughts. Now he knew what could lead the girl to have an issue, what led her to have such a guarded demeanor. He wondered if the incident with the cat and her brother that was listed in her file was an outburst from what that monster was doing to her. 

Hoodie had woke from his break not long after, finding Toby huddled in on himself, trying hard to block out the world. He had taken a quick look through their Charges window and knew instantly what exactly they were dealing with. He had said nothing and left the teen to his own devices. 

For three days, the Proxies repeated their observation, constantly traveling back and forth between their motel room, the school and their perch behind MacKenzie’s home. Toby watched as she became more and more drawn into herself, more and more dead to the outside world. Her gaze became hollow, dark pits of lost nothingness that echoed the tortures in which she endors in what was supposed to be the sanctuary of her own home. Her brothers were seemingly oblivious, rather by their own true naivety or their own purposeful oversights, Toby was unsure. 

It was a particularly dreary day, their fourth time around. The sky was a morbid grey, the air damp with the humidity of promised rain. It was just entering the early afternoon, Toby and Masky venturing into the light of the public as they were in need of more food and supplies for their remaining trip. Hoodie had stayed behind in order to keep an eye on their charge, leaving the other two Poxies to accompany each other much to Masky’s displeasure and Toby’s excitement. Their new faces drew in ill disguised gazes, curious and concerned for the individuals coming into the domain of the usually domestic town. Toby stared back at the individuals, studying them just as much as they were studying him. He kept his hands stuck deep in his jacket pockets, finger gripping the pocket knife hidden within the fabric, it was the only weapon Hoodie would allow him to take.

He kept his strides equal with Masky’s as they strode down the sidewalk in search of a convenient store, they did not need much, just the necessities. Toby kept his facade neutral, holding back the sneers and snarls he wanted to so desperately throw at the gossiping, whispering women that passed them on the street. It was strained to him just how important keeping a low profile was, and to fail was call for immediate action. Actions in which the teen did not want to learn of.

Toby forced his gaze to stay on the back of Masky’s jacket, the tan fabric a familiar constant compared to the new surroundings and Toby was doing his best at staying on the down low. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as a dark chill ran down his spine. Toby whirled around, eyes wide and wild as he searched out the threat he knew was near. He searched the nosey faces of those who passed him by, boring into the curious eyes. Every car that whizzed by, every loud laugh, every sudden voice had the teen on high alert, had every nerve sparking with adrenaline and underlying blood lust. 

Toby’s fevered gaze landed on a plain white van sitting idly across the street. The logo read ‘Home and Business Plumbing Co.’ but something about the two men standing beside the vehicle did not sit right inside Toby’s gut. The two men chatted with each other, nonchalant and oblivious to the boy staring them down with a murderous gleam in his eye. They were both fit, broad shouldered and buzz cuts. Far to military type to work for a plumbing company.

“ **Dangerous** ”. “ _ Run _ ”. “ _ Hide _ ”. “ **_KILL_ ** ”.

“Rogers!” Masky hissed sharply into Toby’s ear, grabbing the teen by the forearm and jolting him from the screams inside his head. Toby snapped his gaze up to those of the older man, seeing the mixture of agitation and fear swirl beneath the blue hue of Masky’s irises. “Let's go” the older Proxy erged, pulling on the teen in order to lead him down the sidewalk. “W-who are th-they” Toby stuttered out, watching Masky’s shoulder blades tense beneath the fabric of his jacket. 

“I'll...just don't worry about it, stay away from them. They are dangerous and we have to avoid them at all costs” Masky liberated, his grip becoming bruising on the teens arm. Toby could not help glancing over his shoulder as they retreated further down the sidewalk, the cold settling on his bones still rising the flesh on his arms. The men followed them with their eyes, a haunting feeling digging a home in Toby’s stomach. He was left to wonder just who those men were to leave even Masky’s voice pitching with fear.

It was not long after that Masky received a call from an out of breath Hoodie, the sudden ringing coming from the older Proxies back pocket had Toby nearly knocking over a display shelf in one of the stores. The teen was oblivious to the fact that either Proxy owned such a device. It was just another one of those instances that proved his disconnection to the rag tag group he was associated with. The muffled voice on the other end of the line sounded troubled, breathless and agitated. The call was kept short, and Masky was slipping the phone back into his pocket only seconds after answering it.

“She ran from the school. Brian is back at her place, we have to go” Masky was quick to explain the situation after witnessing the confused look Toby had been sporting. A sudden jolt of excitement mixed concern flooded the teens veins, sending his already twitching appendages into a frenzy of exhilaration. This had been what they were hoping for, what they had been waiting to witness. Her final snap at reality. Her breaking point. The two Proxies hurried from the store, forgetting about the small basket they had begun to fill with snacks. An hour later, they returned to their hidden area, out of breath and joining Hoodie at the edge of their perch.

“What happened?” Masky asked as soon as he slid to a halt beside his friend. Reaching for the binoculars that Hoodie was already passing his way. “It was sudden, as soon as the lunch bell rang, she bolted. Came straight home.” the hooded Proxy spoke, wiping the sweat from his face before it could run into his eyes. “H-how did-did-did she lo-ok?” Toby asked suddenly, staring down at her window, observing the motionless speck laying on her bed. The two older Proxies glanced over at the teen, confusion contorting their features; “she was running Toby, I was not paying attention to her facial expressions” Hoodie claimed. Toby furrowed his brows, he leaned over Hoodies lap, snatching the binoculars from Masky, causing the older man to protest but the teen ignored the harsh words spit in his direction. She was asleep, it seemed that way anyway. Her body was tense even in sleep and Toby was left wondering just what was going through her head. 

The clouds slowly grew darker, pregnant with the downpour that made the air grow heavier with every passing hour. MacKenzie eventually re-entered the world of consciousness around 3:30. She had rose to a sitting position, slowly and with what seemed the most difficulty Toby had ever seen. She stared blankly at the opposite wall of her room for exactly twenty minutes before her hands flew to her head, her fingers burying themselves in her already tangled hair, and she released a scream, loud a piercing into the empty air of her home. The dog seven houses down began to raise hell at the noise.

She fell back onto her sheets, chest heaving, tears spilling from her eyes. And Toby watched, as the rest of her sanity finally snapped away, leaving behind a broken, disfigured shell that was now filled with the wretched sludge of society's cruelties, and the sins of past abuses. All of it mixing, and churning and running over, spilling from the corners of her eyes and running down the contort of her throat. Like small tracks of broken soul, that could lead no one but the wicked.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: IMPLIED REFERENCE TO SELF HARM. INTENSE LANGUAGE. GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF MURDER. IMPLIED RAPE. IMPLIED INCEST (SORT OF/CERTAIN EXTENT).

**~ Chapter 18 ~**

She laid in her bed for hours. Listening as her brothers stumbled home one by one. Each having their own source of after school entertainment ranging from sports practice to band rehearsals. They were loud and wild, pouncing on each other like a pack of adolescent wolves yet to learn their responsibilities to the public. Believing they were still small children without the burden of life weighing over their shoulders. 

She hated them.

Of the five that resided within her home, only one was related to her through her mother. Mathew. The youngest son, older than her by two years, he was just as stupid as the others. They were all oblivious to the terrors of the real world, having been praised most of their life, their egos being nurtured and pampered like show dogs until they became as pompous and mediocre as their pathetic little town groomed them to be. 

But MacKenzie knew, she saw beneath the fake smiles layered in expensive lipstick, she witnessed the truth that danced behind the makeup weighted eyelids of overzealous hypocrites. She picked apart the lies woven into the arbitrary fleece of half truths and control that was placed over their heads as babies. She refused to coddle herself beneath such a fabric, instead crocheting her own protective quilt of stubborn pride and self-guidance. 

Her mother had been much the same way, when she was alive. She encouraged MacKenzie, lifted her above the sea of overbearing prudence that threatened her individuality. But after she died, there was no one left to hold the girl up, leaving her to drown beneath the toxic waves of traditionalists and to be devoured by evangelical, hypocritical sharks. Her step father was no better, he was a lier, a pathetic excuse of a man that had no right to have had her mother's love. He drank constantly, stumbling home late more times then she could keep count of. And yet, her mother continued to love him, continued to deal with his stupidity and blatant lies of where the smudges of red on his collar came from. 

MacKenzie just did not understand the reason her mother stayed with that pig. He brought in four other boys that trashed the house and ran their mouth off more than they should. And the things he did to her…

The things he did to her.

He was a monster. A filthy bastard that deserved to rot in hell. He needed to die. To burn. To suffer. She wanted him to, so badly did she want to watch the life drain from his eyes, laugh down at his corpse as it rotted on the outside just as it did already on the inside. It was not fair that her mother was the one who had to die, it was all his fault. If he had not been passed out, shit faced drunk on the couch, her mother would not have had to go out to the store. If the rat bastard was not such a pathetic alcoholic, her mother would not have had to drive to get more liquor. Would not have been hit by the semi. Would still be with her.

“ _ You know how he gets ‘Kenzie. He likes his bourbon _ ”

It was not fair.

It was long past time for her to be in bed, sleeping away the days turmoil and preparing her body for the next. But she was far from going to sleep any time soon. She sat in the floor of the upstairs bathroom, a pair of kitchen scissors clutched in her grasp, the remains of her once mid-back length hair in clumps around her knees. Tears swelled and spilt over her cheeks, her quite sobs echoing in the cold room. She hated herself, hated the world, hated everyone and everything. It was not fair what her life had turned into. What she had to go through after she lost her mother. The constant bickering from her ‘brothers’, the questioning glares from her school mates, the half assed apologies she still received from the old whores around town. And the disgusting marks left behind by her stepfather. His hands leaving behind burning hand prints on her flesh that only she could see. That only she could feel.

She held the scissors against her wrist, her tears blurring her vision. She felt the pressure of the blade, cold and heavy against her skin, her cries scattered and broken every now and again by hiccups and her lungs begging for air. She wanted to be with her mother, begged to be free of the suffocating world she was stuck in. It was not fair. Why was she the one who had to suffer.

She felt the icy dredges of sanity slip through her fingers like shards of glass. Cutting her palms and fingertips, leaving behind trails of blood that stained her pale skin like the memories that plagued her nightmares.

‘ _ They should suffer _ ’. ‘ _ It's their fault _ ’. ‘ _ His fault _ ’. The twisted, static representation of her mother's voice whispered in her head, she felt the soft, cold touch drift along her skin, at least she thought she did. Blood beaded around the blade where it began to bite into her skin, she felt the sting like a pinch from a pin. “M-mama...I’m...I’m sorry” the words left her throat in broken pieces, scratching at the inner walls like sandpaper and glass. “ _ Kill him _ ”. “ _ Kill them all _ ”.

The scissors left her wrist. Her feet patted softly against the floor as she left the bathroom and stalked down the hall. The shadows clung to her person, wrapping around her flesh, concealing her bruised and scarred skin in a makeshift armor of abyss before snapping away when she drew to far out of reach. Her eyes were hollow, giving nothing away and leaving room for the twisted, demonic monstrosity of psychotic rage to purge on what was left of her humanity. Her angry thoughts and the hot mesh of burning fury roaring beneath her skin was all the fuel she needed to drive the scissors she held tightly in her grasp into the throat of one of her brothers. 

She watched him startle from his slumber, blood gurgling up over his lips, and sliding down into his lungs with every harsh try of breath he took. Andrew, he was the second eldest. She had shoved him from her tree house when she was eight, after he threatened to break her legs and leave her in the woods if she ever told anyone he had touched her. She never set foot in that tree house again. He was horrid, manipulative, and so much like his father that MacKenzie wanted to puke. His blood felt hot and sticky as it coated her hand, making the scissors slick. She clutched them tighter as she pulled them from Andrews’ neck, the bright sheen of his soft brown eyes fading to a dull mud color as he gurgled his final breath. 

MacKenzie walked from the room, red petals dripping from her hand, making a trail of her rabid destruction. “ _ Kill them. _ ” “ _ Gut them all like the filthy pigs they are _ .” Her mother's voice rang loud and clear in the darkening corners of her brain, sending a thrilling chill down her spine. With each room, she grew more and more bloody. With each brother, she became more and more violent. Tearing into them with the scissors, with her hands, with her teeth. They were oblivious to the carnage taking place within their neighboring rooms, lost to the fact that their brothers were being massacred right beside them. They were too lost in their own self righteous dreams of victory and power to realize they to were being hunted, until it was to late. 

Lightning flashed outside the windows, thunder rattled the glass within their panes. The crack of electricity in the air lit the floor boards coated in red foot prints, glistened off the splatter on the walls and pools on the floors. The beads that dripped and ran down MacKenzie’s face seemed black in the crude light and sudden shadow. She was not expecting a fight, had assumed all her housemates were sleeping soundly in their beds. But Brandon, the oldest, was not. He was drawn to the screen of his computer, mindlessly yelling into the headset attached to the monitor, uncaring to the fact his screams could have woken his brothers, if they still had the ability to hear him. 

He slammed his fingers down on the keyboard, cursing the characters on screen and the players he was connected to over headset. His anger had always been an issue, he was known for getting into brawls over petty disputes. He was used to getting out of them also, his father always giving him a pat on the shoulder, a ‘boys will be boys’ thrown into the mix. He would get nods and hums of ‘don't let it happen again’, then turn around do it all again. The same cycle, the same ending. 

He had become a witness to her toutures one night, when he had one of his late night gaming sessions. His father had been too drunk to properly maneuver around much of the furniture, sending a good bit of it crashing to the floor. But he had managed to stumble his way into MacKenzie’s room, deciding to play his sick little games. MacKenzie had saw him, watched as he past the cracked door, his shadow stumbling to a halt, and back tracked. He stood there, his gaze mortified as she was constricted, her mouth stuffed with a dirty, beer stained tie. How she was held down, violated, murdered without actually being killed. She had begged him with her eyes, to help, to do something, anything.

But he walked away. Never spoke a word. Never did anything.

“‘Kenzie?”

He had seen her reflection in his computer screen, gaze growing confused at the unrecognizable stains along her arms, face and torso. “Oh my God” he breathed when he turned to face her fully, taking in the mess that she had become. She watched as he struggled from his seat, stumbling back due to the cord that still connected him to his monitor, to the yelling players calling out to their comrade to get back into the game. He ignored them, removing the headset placing it on the keyboard without taking his gaze off his younger step sister. 

“Are you…” his voice cracked as he tried to speak, he cleared his throat, swallowed thickly and tried again. “Are you alright ‘Kenzie?” he asked, true concern lacing his tone, rather it was actually for her well being or his own self preservation, she was not sure. He eyed the scissors in her fist, his gaze traveling along the splatters of smeared red across her face. Sweat began to bead along his forehead, sliding down his cheeks and dripping from his chin. 

“Now you ask.” her voice was small, but it rang loud in the room. “After all this time, you decide now is the right time to ask if I'm alright!” she yells at him, digs her fingers into the the fabric of her night shirt, tears bubbling over her eyelids as the fractures in her mind begin to crack even further. He was taken aback by the outburst, confused and terrified by what he was watching. “I begged you to help, prayed, cried and screamed with my eyes for you to stop him! But you didn't! You ran away, like a fucking coward! Left me to be played with, humiliated, treated like a fucking toy for a disgusting pig that calls himself a man!” she spat the words in his face, feeling her lips widen into a sinister smile, her lips splitting, mixing her own blood with those that already occupied her chin. 

“N-no, ‘Kenzie please. I-I didn't know what to do. I was scared, confused. I thought...you and-and-” he stumbled over the words, feeling the heat of shame and guilt rise to his cheeks. His hands shook, he balled them into fists to keep the vibrations from showing. “What? That me and what? That I liked it? That I wanted that bastard to touch me, kiss me, fuck me like a bitch!” she stalked towards him, smile still plastered on her face. “I hated it! It drove me insane, I stayed awake for weeks watching my door, hoping he wouldn't slither his way back in. I was terrified!” she was whispering now, low and maniacal. “And you just watched…” she was so close to him, their breaths mingling within the same atmosphere, “and did nothing!”

She swiped at him with her scissors, missing his eye by just an inch when he stumbled backwards. She drove the blades down, aiming to plunge them deep into his chest, but he grabbed her wrist in a vice like, adrenaline spiked grip. He shoved her back, eyes wide and wild in fear. “Kenzie! Please, i’m begging you to listen to me, don't do this!” he pleaded with broken breaths, chest heaving as MacKenzie dove for another attack, relentless in her attempts to rid the boy of his life. “You had your chance to spare me a life of torture and fear, you left me to suffer. Why should I show you any mercy” she hissed, her words dripping with anger, regret, fear and a thick layer of insanity. She kicked out at is knees, catching him on the left cap and sending him to the ground with a pained cry. 

She plunged the blades down, unable to drive them home into her brothers skull due to his annoying insistence of staying alive. “I-I realize I messed up, I'm so, so sorry. If I could go back and change what happened, I swear to God I would. But ‘Kenzi, I never meant to hurt you. I just, I was scared ok. You know how he is when he's drunk. He's terrifying, and I was afraid of what he would do.” she paused in her attempted attack, she was scared to. Terrified. Every waking hour, every sharp breath, every sudden thought in her head was fueled by the horror left behind to course through her veins from that bastard of a man. She knew he was a sick fuck, even when he was sober enough to shout coherent demands and insults. For a moment, she felt something deep in her gut twist and a sudden rush of regret and sadness chilled her fiery blood. But her split second of humanity was all that her brother needed to send a fist to her face and sweep the legs out from under her. 

She fell to the floor with a heavy thud, Brandon left her no time to rise, quickly crawling above her and straddling her hips, wrapping his hands around her neck as soon as he freed the scissors from her grip. She scratched at his hands, breaking the thin skin with her bitten nails, her throat began to clench shut, air leaving her lungs but no longer entering. She gaped, her mouth falling wide, struggling to bring in oxygen to her begging body. She kicked out her legs, the limbs hitting uselessly against the floor as her brother pressed down harder on her neck. His teeth were clenched, face scrunched up into a look of intense concentration. He breathed harshly through gritted teeth from the effort he put into keeping her defenseless.

“You always were such a fucking freak” he hissed down at her, watching as she opened and closed her mouth like a fish, how her eyes bulged from the strain, how the blood vessels burst just beneath her irises. “I think you did like what he did to you ‘Kenzi. Liked how he touched you, whispered dirty words in your ear”. A sick smirk decorated Brandon’s lips, his gaze traveling down her blood splattered form. “Maybe the old man didn't have such bad taste after all though”.

MacKenzie felt her head grow stuffy and light all at the same time as her brain started to react to the lack of oxygen. The edges of her vision were beginning to gain that hazy blackness which warned the oncoming loss of consciousness. Her body was growing weak, she could feel her limbs giving up their fight as her brother leaned over her body, guiding his lips across her neck in an all to familiar way. He rearranged his hands, pressing heavier against her trachea with one hand as he used the other to press her left cheek into the floor. She could feel his fingers skimming along the exposed skin of her arms, over her sides, her hips. Tear blurred vision stared blindly beneath the black abyss that was her brothers bed, using the darkness to guide her thoughts to a deeper recess, one that would shield her from the cruel reality that seemed to enjoy torturing her. Breathing was a foreign experience to her by now, she would not have minded if she never took in another breath if it meant she no longer had to live in this hell. She ignored the feeling against her stomach from Brandon’s position above her, ignored the flesh gingerly running over her own. She almost missed the impression of teeth sinking into her shoulder, the sensation faint in her pre-traumatic, half conscious state. She was almost completely oblivious to the cool, smooth object her fingers reflexively tried to wrap around. 

Brandon was lost in his own sick amusement, his strive for survival mixing with copious amounts of a strange sort of lust. The realization that he was in control, that MacKenzie was completely defenseless beneath him brought forth a horrid sort of excitement up from deep inside his gut. Awakening a power blinded beast that did not acknowledge the danger it had put itself in until the blunt end of a wooden bat was driven harshly into the side of his head. 

Brandon was sent tumbling to the ground, groaning in pain as MacKenzie wobbled to her feet, using the bat as leverage to lift her body as it was racked with harsh coughs. Her lungs burned with every intake of once denied breath, but the relief that the oxygen brought with it was to much to stop her from taking it in. 

“Your just like him.” her voice was raw, scratching, thick with swelling and rage that only spurred on her blood lust. “Your just as pathetic…” she circled her step brother like an animal, a hunter cornering it's prey. Taunting it before going into for the final kill. “Your just as disgusting, and puny and cruel as he is!” she rose the bat above her head, slamming it down into his ribs. Brandon let out a scream of pain that drowned the sound of cracking bones. “Your a monster!”, she brought the bat down again. “I hate you!”, and again. “I hate all of you!”, and again.

She did not stop, even when his skull punctured through his skin, when his eyes burst from their sockets, when his blood splattered her face in a hot and sticky spray. She continued until his face was unrecognizable in the mess of beaten flesh, bone and blood. She fell to her knees, choking on angry tears, feeling as though the death she had dealt was far from good enough. She heard her mother's voice, soft and comforting in the back of her head, telling her she did a wonderful job, that she was almost free. 

_ ‘Just one more’ _ , it whispered to her. “Just one more” she repeated in a sort of relieved tone. “What in the ever loving fuck”. Her soft brown eyes, the color of a oak trees bark just after a misty rain, snapped to the open door of her now dead brothers room. Her step father stood in the doorway, his gaze dazed from sleep and unbelieving in sight before him, his stance was swaying, signs of his still less than sober state. She heard the click before she saw the gun pointed in her direction, the quick flash of lightning cracked arose the sleek black metal of the weapon. It shook in the man's unsteady hand, his wide, bloodshot eyes zipping between his mutilated son and evidence splattered step daughter. 

“What the fuck did you do!” he screamed, fury and fear leaking into his words. She stared him down, no emotion in her gaze. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the bat, she refused to die sitting on the floor like a dog. “WHAT DID YOU DO YOU STUPID LITTLE BITCH!”. He yelled louder, his whole body beginning to vibrate from hate, fear, grief. She did not know.

“I put the mutts out of their misery” she hissed out, rising from the floor, bat in a death grip. His face contorted into a ugly cross between rage and sadness, his finger tightened on the trigger, he steadied his arm, ready for the shot. A hand placed itself against his chin, raising his head while another slid a knife clean across his throat in one swift motion. MacKenzie did not even blink when the bullet grazed by her cheek, embedding itself into the back wall. She was to busy watching as the man who tormented her for years, used her mother like a slave, violated her mentally, verbally, emotionally and physically, bled out before her very eyes. His blood gurgled in his throat, spilling over his lips with every attempted breath. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, the way he slid to the floor, gun falling from his hand so he could press it to his gaping neck in feeble attempts to quell the bleeding. 

Her own blood boiled, not in joy or relief that the man who raped her was dead, but because she was not the one who had got to kill him. She let out an enraged scream as the last bit of life left his eyes, she charged the man's killer, sending the bat crashing into their shoulder, hearing the crunch of bone beneath their skin. They let out a harsh, pained curse, gripping their wounded shoulder as they fell to their knees. MacKenzie refused to give them a seconds rest, she brought the bat down on their skull, sending them sprawling out on the floor. She raised her weapon again, attempting to bring it down for the finishing blow, only to be grabbed around the waist and tackled to the ground. She bit, kicked, scratched and hissed at the being on top of her, they held her down with a hand around her neck, pressing a gun to her forehead.

“Make sure he’s not dead Toby!” they yelled over their shoulder, directing their rage and anger filled screams to the third individual invading her home. Who were these people? How dare they enter into her house and steal away the last shred of disease that tied her to her demons. She was going to kill him, she had to be the one who did it. Now, she would live with the fact that his dying breath was not created by her own hands. She had planned to make him suffer, like he had made her suffer, like he had made her mother. But, all her wishes went down the drain, like the rain pooling outside and cascading its way down into the gutters. 

“He's b-b-breathing” a soft, muffled reply came from her left. Her gaze caught those of wide, curious, hazel - gold. She saw it. Even beneath those hideous goggles. That same look of destruction, fear, hatred and disease swam beneath the surface of those eyes, the same merciless perils she saw in her own reflection. And yet, they were another traitorous bastard that took away her final attempt at freedom. She would not forgive them. 

Her fingers slipped around the handle of the blade sitting in the belt of the individual above her. She had it unsheathed and slashing into their ribs before they had a chance to realize she had moved at all. Her attacker let out a grunt of pain, clutching at their side as blood seeped from the gash and stained their hoodie. MacKenzie pressed her knees into their chest, heaving them off of herself with an effort she barely noticed. They fell back against the wall, adding pressure to their new wound, breathing fast and deep. 

“Damn bastards” she cursed them beneath her breath as she hauled herself to her feet. “I was so close...” she held the knife tight, her knuckles burning white with the pressure, “you ruined everything …”, her crazed gaze bore into the already wounded individual. “I'll kill you all to”.

She charged them, brandishing her new weapon with all the intent to finish the fucker off. Her world tilted, her feet left the floor and she once again found herself crashing to the ground, larger body taking up space above her. But this time, she was not held down, her attacker was quick to retreat from their position, allowing her to climb back to her feet. Her new foe took up a stance between the two wounded individuals, like the remaining dog protecting its pack. She swiped her knife upwards, they dodged her attack easily, she was sloppy uncultured in wielding such a weapon. 

“M-MacKenzie, plea-se. We are here here to help-p-p you”

The sound of her own name threw the girl off. She halted in her attacks, confusion contorting her previously, venomous continence. “I kn-ow your suff-suff-suffering…”, they held up their hands in a slow sort of surrendering stance. She was unsure if the ticks and quakes in their voice was from fear or simple vocal contractions. They were not much taller then she was, skinny, pale. They twitched, small little ticks in their fingers, a crack from their neck, a sudden tilt of their neck that let off an audible though soft pop. She blinked at the strangeness that was the person before her. They raised their hands, and she raised her knife that she had not realized had slowly slipped to a non threatening level. 

They calmed her sudden action by holding out one palm, slipping their goggles to the top of their head and pulling the mask down around their neck. “Th-they hurt you…”, she shot a quick glance to Brandon’s splattered corpse. “He hurt you even even more, right”, her gaze cut to the man on the ground, lifeless and pathetic. 

“Toby!”. 

A harsh hiss came from the individual slowly bleeding against the wall. The other masked being still unconscious in the doorway. But the one in front to her, ‘Toby’ as the other had called them, they ignored the harsh call. “I know wh-what-at that's like. I've f-f-f-felt the pain of being be-betrayed.” His, she assumed they were a he, words were raw, bleeding a sort of real emotion that she felt mix and churn with the similar feelings in her gut. 

“I never had to go thro-through what you have. But-but-but I-I know how it feels to have your family turn a-away from you. Use you like a-a-a floor mat to wipe their filth-th-thy feet on.” MacKenzie felt the hot, salt injected tears bubble in the corners of her eyes, her hand had begun to shake as she tried to force the emotions back down beneath the black mass of rage and hatred. 

“You don't have to-to be a-alone anymore…” it was hard for her to swallow, her throat was tight as the tears spilt over. She could hear the soft whispers at the back of her mind, they were speaking but it was hard to make out the syllables as her shell began to crack. He spoke words that she had only wished to be spoken to her, even with the stutter, she could make out the layers of self assurance and desperation. And she realized he was not only talking to her, it seemed as though he was trying to also convince himself of his own words. 

“All people are the same! How the fuck can you say that I won't be alone, when I've been alone for years!” she bit out, not allowing herself to believe his words. He was silent for a moment, their standoff strained and heavy with unknown paths that could be taken and uncontrolled emotions that were dangerous if lit by the wrong match. After a long, sharp amount of pause, he reached out his hand, palm up and open, fingertips twitching just slightly.

“Because I'm here. For you”.

Her breath caught, tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes were wide and losing the blood lust that had previously inhabited the depths. She stared at the offered hand, the olive branch that was never once offered to her before. A hiccup escaped her as she lowered the knife, reaching out with her free but bloodied hand, just like she did long ago when she was a child, when she fell off her bike and her mother helped her back up. Just like she did when her only blood brother pulled her from the deep end of the public pool. 

Her hand slipped snuggly into his gloved one. It was warm, comforting, her shoulders sagged and she stumbled forward falling against the stranger who held all the sharp and soft support that she needed. A hand slipped into her hair, she tensed, but slowly relaxed as fingers carded gently through her hair. She felt light headed, her body ached and she could no longer stay on her feet. Her body sagged forward, the edges of her vision darkening. For the first time in a very long time, she prayed. Prayed that she never woke up again.

Prayed that she could see her mother one last time.

~~~~~

Hoodie observed the interaction between the teens with a mixture of awe, interest and slight disgust. This was not the way things were done, Toby was stepping over a line he should not cross, a line Hoodie did not even realize Toby was able to cross. The senior Proxy added the youngers sudden behavior to the ever growing list of oddities that made up the boy. Hoodie watched as their Charge finally gave out, her body slumping forward, knife falling from her grip. Toby buckled slightly beneath the sudden dead weight, hurriedly trying to properly right her in order for him to hold her up.

With a deep breath, Hoodie hauled himself from his sitting position. They had to leave. Quickly.

“..oby. Toby!” the young Proxy was ripped from his deep musings from the harsh snarl of his name. He whipped his head around to stare into Hoodies mask, eyes slightly unfocused as his mind continued to wonder. “We have to leave. Now”. Toby’s brows furrowed at the sudden outburst coming from the usually docile Proxy, nevermind the wound. Toby had seen Hoodie hurt far worse and still crack jokes while Masky cursed at him while he fixed up whatever it was that illed the man. 

The faint ring of sirens drew the teens attention, causing alarm to blare in his already muddled mind. “H-how…” before he could even finish his question, Hoodie was already giving a brief but exact answer. “Neighbors probably heard the gunshot and called the cops. Time to fucking go Toby”. The wounded man hauled Masky up onto unresponsive feet, slinging a tan jacket clad arm over his shoulders with a drawn out groan of pain. A thicker patch of blood seeped from his hoodie as he struggled to hold up the other male. 

“What about the blood and kni-”

“We don't have fucking time for that Rodgers! Get your ass moving NOW!” Toby jolted at the sudden outburst, his grip tightening around the girl in his arms, he could not think of a time that Hoodie had called him by his last name, that was usually saved for Masky and his severe agitation for the twitching Proxy. Toby decided then, he did not want to hear it come from the hooded male ever again. With a grunt of effort, the teen slipped his arm beneath the girls knees, his other cradling her shoulders, stepping over the corpse of her step father, Toby followed after the struggling Proxy. 

Sirens wailed louder as police cars sped down the cookie cutter road, lights flaring against the white painted walls of the identical houses, blue and red bleeding together to make a threatening purple. The Proxies slipped out of the back door, screen slamming as they rushed through the rain, shoes sinking in the muddied ground as they trudged into the trees. Hoodie slowly fell behind bit by bit, Masky’s feet dragged behind them, boots snagging on exposed roots and dredging up mud in thick clumps. Toby had not had enough practice in carrying so much weight for large amounts of time, he could feel his muscles straining beneath his skin, the tendons tightening as he refused to stop and rest. He was not allowed to, not now, not yet. 

Their journey back to their motel was long, cold, wet and strenuous. The rain refused to let up, if anything it seemed to get worse the closer they got to their current inhabitants. But finally, after a overly complicated amount of time, the Proxies burst through their motel door, stumbling forward to place their designated burdens on the beds. Hoodie fell to his knees as soon as he haphazardly dropped Masky on the sheets. He tore off his mask, the fabric soaked in sweat and rain. He took in deep breaths, doubling over and slamming his fist into the floor as he muffled a yell in his other arm. Toby watched as the older Proxy sat back up and pulled off his hoodie, shivering as he pulled up the edge of his shirt. The cut was much deeper than Toby first thought, blood still steadily wept from between the severed flesh, staining the waistband of Hoodies jeans.

“Get me the aid kit” the older Proxy mumbled so lowly Toby did not hear him at first. At the hesitancy the younger showed, Hoodie resorted to yelling out the demand. Toby tried to keep in mind that the older male was wounded, cold, and most likely worried about the well being of his friend. Lover. Boyfriend. Whatever the fuck Masky was. As Hoodie snatched the bag from his hand, shifting through it frantically for gauze and disinfectant. Toby watched him pour a generous amount of alcohol on the cut, watching as Hoodie took in a sharp breath, his shirt being stretched as he balled it tightly in his fist. He slapped on a large bandage after one more soak of disinfectant. When he was satisfied with his self treatment, he scurried up to Masky’s bedside.

Hoodie gently tilted the man's head, the bat had done enough damage to leave a pool of Masky’s blood back on the floor of the house, but Toby felt a heavy weight suddenly lift from his shoulders as a few red speckles littered the pillow his head was occupying. Hoodie took off the other Proxies mask, setting in on the bedside table and pushed back the wet hair that fell into his face. Toby felt like he was intruding on something far more intimate then what he had seen between the two, so much raw emotion was displayed on Hoodie’s face and Toby was unsure on how to handle that. 

“Why didn't you stop her?” the question was quiet, bordering on a whisper. But Toby heard it, like a stab to his gut. “I-I...sh-she c-c-came s-so fast...I-I-I -” Toby tripped over his words even worse than usual, he wrung his wrists, pressed his fingers together, did anything to quell the random jerking his body was producing tenfold in his stressed position. Hoodie spoke of that split moment, right after Masky had slit the bastards throat, as he dealt with the weight and splatter of blood, Toby had seen MacKenzie rush forward, bat brandished he had a moment were he could have stopped her, he knew he could have. But at that moment, he saw everything that had drowned her beneath waves of delusional reality swell up in her gaze and he froze, he froze because he had seen that same look in his own eyes once long ago. When he was still weak, before he had slaughtered his own demons. 

“I'm sorry.”

Toby felt his back slam against the wall, the television rattled on its flimsy wooden table from the force. The teen stared into the crazed gaze of the usual docile Proxy, he could see the rage trying to push down the fear. “Your fucking sorry! Sorry isn't going to stop the possible concussion he might have! You fucking idiot! You had one damn job, ONE JOB! And you can't even do that right” Hoodie’s fists were now balled into Toby’s jacket collar, the teen felt the back of his head pound as harsh whispers took up a space in the dark recesses. 

“Masky was right when he said you would just cause problems” Hoodie did not look up at the younger Proxy when he spoke, his forehead was resting on the teens chest, his breathing was labored, thoughts muddy. “Fucking pathetic”.

Thinking back on it, Toby did not know if Hoodie had intended the comment for himself or for the teen. The words still left a acid taste in his mouth, sending him reeling back into the moments when his father was still alive, when he would drink away his problems and beat his anger out on Toby’s body. The whispers surged forward, forming into a torrent of ringing screams that left his head reeling. 

Toby found himself shoving the wounded man back, Hoodie to weak from blood loss to balance himself fell back onto the floor. Toby straddled the man's waist, sending his fist into his face, over and over and over again. He was not pathetic, he was not weak. He would be damned if he allowed anyone else to treat him like dirt, like garbage. He refused to be a floor mat, not for anyone. Never again.

Toby was not sure if he was the cause for Hoodie to eventually black out, or if it was the blood loss. But the young Proxy found himself huddled in a corner, surrounded by unconscious bodies, blood and shadow. At this point, he did not know if any of them were even alive. The thought of coraling himself in with corpses drove the teen into a frenzy on his own. He was used to death, caused it on a pretty normal basis, but this was different, even though he could not even describe it to himself as to why. He knew Masky’s condition was his fault, he had already blamed himself. Hated himself. It was the fact that Hoodie turned on him, accused him, belittled him. For a moment, the young Proxy had grown to like the man, found a standing close to him to where he was not as closed off to him as he was the others. But now, he felt as though that pillar had suddenly been demolished beneath his very feet. Crumbling down to join the lost memories of his mother.

Toby huddled against himself for a long while, rocking back and forth in hopes of both comforting himself and giving himself something to do so he would not think as much. But, he thought anyway. Thought about the week he had just went through, about the night he had just experienced, it all led up to the main premier the one movie he hated with a passion but was the only one he had on constant replay. His childhood, if he thought about it, was not anywhere near being as fucked up as MacKenzie’s, he had been beaten and cursed. Abused physically, mentally and emotionally. But it never reached the extent of sexual assault, and yet. Here they were, inhabiting the same universal space at the exact same time. Their lives already intertwining like a badly rushed ending to a good book chapter. Their threads stained red by the blood of the ones they once cared about and not cared about. It was funny how the world worked, the broken and the damned always seemed to find each other in the strangest of ways, coming together either to finally have someone like themselves to spend time with without the threat of ridicule. Or they come together only to kill the other off, deeming their other to be horrendous in their own sort of twisted irony. Toby was unsure now we're he stood with the girl, and in all honesty, he did not want to think about it, the ideas would only put more pressure on his already fragile interior.

It was still dark out, the rain letting up from its previous hailstorm, but a steady constant of background noise that soothed over the inhabitants of the room. At one point, Toby found himself leaning against the footboard of MacKenzie’s bed, knees pulled up to his chest eyes staring blindly at the flickering television. The screen played old black and white cartoons that Toby had never heard of, but it didn't much matter to the twitching teen at the moment. Toby was brought from his slow inward spiral of abyss with a sudden jolt, one that he realized was brought on by his own natural human instincts when being surprised. He paused, straining his ears to listen for anything that could have attracted his unconscious attention. 

Three sharp knocks sounded on their motel door, causing the Proxy to whip his head around and stare in a mixer of fear and surprise at the wood. A long pause followed with Toby peeking over the edge of the motel bed, scenarios of different caliber coursing through his head. The knocks came again, loud and harsh but this time a voice danced along with the foreboding thump, thump, thump of the door. 

“You three fellas’ are in ‘ere. I knows you are!” Toby looked over at Hoodie, still sprawled on the floor, bandage already steeped in blood. His eyes slid up to Masky who had not moved a muscle since their return to the room. He was on his own. And completely unsure on what to do. “Open dis door! I saws ya dragging in yous people. I ain't runnin’ no crack house so yous betta’ get the fuck out before I calls the cops!”.

They refused to let up, managing to bang harder on the door if Toby could believe it. His wrist popped and his shoulders jerked as his stress levels began to skyrocket. Sudden thoughts of; ‘what would Hoodie do? What would Masky say?’ popped into his head as his breathing began to quicken. Then a thought that made the teen suddenly cease all such movement coursed along his brain; ‘what would Jeff do?’.

Toby sat up straight, hand blindly groping around the floor before his fingers wrapped securely around the handle of one of his discarded hatchets. His face settled into an emotionless mask, he crossed the threshold of the room with quick, lengthy steps halting for just a moment at the door, fingertips lightly brushing the handle. 

“I said open the fuckin’ door, ya damn ingrates!”. Toby yanked open the door at those words, halting who he could now distinguish as the woman who had glared at them with scrutiny at their first arrival. The fist she had raised in order to bang on the wood fell to her hip, she glared up at the teen with the same squint eyed look, her lips pinched in an judgmental scowl. Toby stared her down with a blank look of his own, already deciding he hated her. “I told ya’ this ain't no getup where you and your little fag-” she did not finish her sentence before a gurgled breath left her lips, cutting her off mid sentence. Her hand flew up, her nails catching against Toby’s face, leaving angry red lines in their wake, the sharp sting the wound brought went blind to the teens nerve endings.

“You talk to loud, you'll wake the neighbors” Toby spat with disdain coating his syllables. A waterfall of red spilt down her throat, the already stained shirt she was sporting darkened as the liquid seeped into the fabric. Toby slipped his hatchet into one of his belt loops, reaching forward just as the woman fell forward. He dragged her body through the door frame, a red trail smeared the carpet as he traveled across the room until he was able to deposit the corpse haphazardly in the bathtub. Satisfied with his deed, the teen slammed the door shut, leaving the bitch to rot.

Toby went about packing up their bags, stuffing Masky and Hoodie’s masks into their respective bags, or, well he would have if he gave a damn at the moment as to who's shit was who's. He needed to leave, he was ready to go...to go...could he call the house packed full of interdimensional demons and psychopaths a home? A keep away? A place he could perch until he decided he could actually handle the outside world? He did not know, he just wanted to return, at least there, he had a feel of normalcy. 

He made trip after trip up and down the stairs between the motel room and Masky’s car. Throwing bags in the trunk, knives and bullets in the floorboards and extra articles of clothes onto the leather seats. He struggled with dragging Hoodies ass from the room. The man was much larger than he, and much more heavier. It took the teen quite the effort to transfer the older Proxy from the motel floor to the backseat of the car. Rather or not he dropped the man a few times on purpose was known only to him. 

He was sure to take a much gentler approach to gathering up Masky and making the trek down to the ground floor. In any other situation, the teen would have allowed the older make to tumble his way down the stairs, making the process go by much quicker. But considering the circumstances, the hurt he saw in Hoodies dark green gaze, the fear, the worry. Anymore damage to the man would be a tragedy on someone's part, and Toby could not risk the hatred that would come from the possibility. No matter how much he wanted to drown the bastard in the nearby pool.

With Masky buckled securely in the passenger seat, an effort that Toby would never admit to struggling with, he moved on to their charge. The whole reason he was present in the ratty hotel, in the god awful town. Sprayed in blood and sweat. With a mind that did not seem to shut the fuck up. As precaution, Toby ended up duct taping MacKenzie’s hands and feet together, placing a strip across her mouth before throwing her over his shoulder, thankful for her scrawny build. He deposited her in the trunk, tucking the bags around and on top of her, slamming the door shut with a muttered apology that he actually meant. In the end, the teen was proud of what he had accomplished in a time span of an hour and a half. After a quick sweep of the molded motel room, Toby slammed closed the door, locked it and chucked the key in the nearest sewage drain.

It was not until he slid into the driver's seat of the old Mercury that he felt his blood finally cease it's rapid pulse through his veins. It froze in its course throughout his body, making his fingertips go numb and his head to grow fuzzy. What the fuck was he doing? He couldn't drive, not that he didn't know how to, he just… the idea of being in control of such a monstrous contraption sent his head reeling.

“ **Fucking pussy** ”. “ _ Coward”. “ _ **_Pathetic little bitch_ ** ”. 

He swallowed thickly as the harsh whispers began at the back of his head, making their way forward as they grew louder. 

“ Go ahead ”. “ **Drive** ”. “ _ Kill these fucks like you did your sister _ ”.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough to make his knuckles burn white. It wasn't his fault, not truly, he knew that, deep down. But the fact that he was still alive, some fucked up bastard like him, while his sister had to die so slowly, so painfully. It was not fair. The universe had screwed up royally, either that, your it enjoyed watching him suffer. Maybe there was a God, one that just loved to watch him run around like a chicken who just lost its head. If that was the case, he hoped he was a god source of fucking entertainment. 

“ _ Well? _ ”. “ **What will you do?** ”. “ Grow some fucking balls ”. “ **_Drive!_ ** ”.

Toby felt the cars engine rev to life through the floorboards beneath his feet. He was shaking, whole body tense and shivering all at once. He had to do this, he couldn't run, not this time. There was to much on the line this time. For MacKenzie. For himself.

His heart sat in his throat, beating in his ears a sardonic melody that slowed his blood to a grueling crawl. He had to do this. His feet tested the pedals, converse soles tapping first the break, then the gas earning a series of soft squeaks and heavy grumbles. He knew how to drive, the basics at least, how to stop how to go. He had to do this. He chanced a glance at the older Proxy in the seat to his right, Masky still sat slightly slumped forward in the seat, unmoving and unconscious. He had to do this.

With a final, heavy, shaking breath, Toby pressed down on the break, pulling the gearshift into place with a thick sounding click. The car rolled forward, Toby easing off the break ever so carefully. He would get as far from the town as he would allow himself, he needed to get them all out, none of them belong in such a setting, they were all to far gone, to far steeped from the demands of society. Toby flicked on the radio, blaring to him to be white noise, the vocals of Halsey drowning out the roar of the engine as the young Proxy twisted the volume up. He peeled from the motel entrance, merging with the other mechanical monstrosities with only the minimal honking of horns screaming behind him. The sun rose in the reflective glass of the rear view mirror, Toby watching none of the pinks, teals and oranges paint the horizon, pushing against the diamond studded black velvet the was the night sky. He kept his gaze hard and set forward, watching the flow of murderous vehicles in front of him. His hands tightened around the wheel, he swallowed thickly. 

He had to do this.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: OVERALL LANGUAGE. GORE. ANGST. AND SEXUAL REFERENCES.

**~ Chapter 19 ~**

Everything felt numb. Heavy. His tongue felt like lead sitting uselessly in his dry mouth, his throat feeling as though it was stuck together, flesh peeling against flesh every time he tried to swallow. Lights flashed through the thin skin of his eyelids, his irises searching out the brightness, shifting frantically beneath said flesh. But he was blind to his surroundings, dead to the world against his own will. He felt trapped, encased in a prison of his own making. He could not even remember how he had gotten in this dreadful position, how he had fell into this self induced imprisonment of numbness and fear. 

His body jolted, his fingers twitched. He could feel the soft, smooth coolness of leather beneath the pads of his thumb. If he strained hard enough, just before the pounding in his skull drowned out his strength, he could hear the faint symphony of blaring music, screamed words meshed together to form coherent babbles of faked proclamations and glorified nonsense. He tried. Desperalty. To pry apart his eyelids, but his lashes seemed to have grown together, forming a sort of interwoven lock of dried tears and sleep discharge. Something passed over his face, down his heated cheeks and across his sweat drenched forehead. The feeling was gentle, tender, almost loving. He wanted to place that touch, it was so familiar, and yet it was lost to him like that of a passing memory, gone just like he was as he drifted back into the deep recesses of unconsciousness that wrapped him in the cool embrace of serenity. 

~~~~~

His second wakening was far smoother. 

The pounding in his skull was faint, still present, but not as suffocating as the first round. He could breath without feeling as though the entirety of his stomach would gurgle forth from his throat and leave his lips like bile spewing through a pressure washer. His eyelids were still sealed shut, but he had the strength to pry them apart, his eyelashes pulling against one another almost painfully, flakes of dried eye mucus flaking away to reveal bloodshot, dilated and unfocused blue eyes. His pupils were glassy, his vision blurred, the edges of his irises felt puffy in the strangest sort of way. With each shift of his cornea, it was like a needle was being pressed through the back of his eye, searching for a way out that could only come from his pupil. 

He shifted his shoulders, it was more of an attempt that mimicked that of a newly hatched bird, adjusting their joints to the outside world that provided more space then their previous enclosed shells. The movement was farce, hardly a movement at all. Consisting only of a small budge against the leather seat he was residing on, the action leaving behind a sharp pain that traveled down his spine. He glided his fingers over the seats edge, actually feeling the ridges of stitching along its contour. He was relieved that he was able to still have the sensation of touch, and he almost cried tears of joy when his arm fell over the seat, fingers brushing the hardened carpeting of the cars floorboards, his memory slowly drifting above the darkened waves of amnesia, reminding him of the carbonated liquid that had coated said flooring. 

He rolled onto his side, a sad display of fish flopping would be the proper depiction one would use to explain his attempts. He was slow, his gut squeezing tightly as he pressed his shoulder into leather, bring forth an even harsher onslaught of pain that he bit his lip to ignore. His ribs protested, a groan leaving his lips to portray the bones’ turmoil, each one creaked with in his chest, he could almost hear them straining against his movements, screaming their painful woes. His skin peeled from the leather, stinging as it went, stuck to the spot by hours of dried sweat and old rain water, the audible release of the living flesh from the dead drifted into his faintly ringing ears, as did that of a muffled voice. 

He felt gentle hands run fervently over his body. Shifting his face from side to side, pressing into the tender flesh of his forearms and throat. “...othy? Tim? Fucking hell, can you hear me?”. The sound drifted into his ears slowly, his brain processing the words spoken before he could place the voice that spoke them. Gradually, sluggishly, precariously and decrepitly slowly, his mind pieced the vocals together, the words morphing into a shape, a silhouette backed by the rays of a setting sun forced the fog from his vision, giving way to a name, a face, a deep seeded emotion that left his chest fluttering in ways he never knew he would miss. 

“B...an..B-yan...B..B” his words were as dry as his tongue, what he wanted to say fell from his cracked lips as useless ramblings. He could not breath through his nose, leaving his heavy breaths to strangle from his throat, he could feel the film that sat layered on his tongue, and felt a sharp flash of shame to rise to his cheeks at the thought of his lover having to smell his rancid breath, but he continued to try and speak said lovers name. He needed to, just to be sure it was all real. “Hush, don’t rush it alright. Take your time” Bryan caressed his face, his hands were always so soft to Tim, bearing a sort of gentleness needed to ground them both to the world that sought so desperalty to contort and ravage their sanity. “W-tr...wa-t..wtr”, he swallowed thickly, his throat going through the bodily motions even though he had no saliva to dampen his esophagus. 

“Right, yeah. Here, slowly ok, just drink slow”. Fingers touched beneath his chin, barley pressing his head up as the lip of a bottle was pressed to his mouth. Tim could smell the plastic, the damp opening of the bottle against his dry lips was a blessing itself. He parted his lips, reaching up in an attempt to grasp the bottle himself but only brushing the plastic with his fingertips. He was like a baby, attempting to hold its own bottle but still too weak and in need of its mothers assistance. Bryan tipped the bottle ever so slightly, waterfalling the liquid into his lovers mouth. The water was sun warmed, the heat giving the liquid the same plastic taste as he smelled. But he was far from concerned by possible poisoning, the water drenched his inner throat with liquid relief, the effort to swallow it down was almost painful, but Tim welcomed the burn. He chased the bottle when it was pulled away from his lips, giving a sad sounding whine at losing his much needed refreshment. 

Bryan thumbed away the drops that slipped down the corners of Tim’s lips, shushing the other man as though he was comforting a child. “Its empty, we’re going to have to stop for more, alright.” Tim slumped forward, head falling against Bryan’s chest, his gaze settled on the dry patch of brownish, faint red splotch on the side of his lovers white v-neck. His brain did not focus on where or how Bryan had received such a thing, instead it puts all his concentration in forming his lips properly to speak what little words his throat would permeate to pass over his vocal cords. “W-w...wher..e. A.t..at?”, he felt like Toby, stumbling over words that should have been the simplest to say, it was a struggle to try and force them out, he did not know how the kid could handle having to deal with fumbling over words his entire life, his respect, however miniscule it was, for the young Proxy grew a few more pegs. 

“We are somewhere along the edge of Cali and Oregon. Not important though. How are you feeling?” the information swirled around in his head, the familiar lull of Bryan’s voice pulling him under a soft blanket of fatigue. “T-ti..red” he mumbled out, his eyelids sliding closed only to slowly open once again. His mouth opened, lips parting, waiting to shape out the words he wanted to speak, but nothing left his throat. He licked his lips and tried again, only to release a large, uncharacteristic yawn. “Just rest Tim”, Bryan sounded so far away, his voice like an echo lost to the mist of drowsiness. Tim gave a soft hum, leaning heavier on his lover, letting the waves of sleep crash over him once again, his last sights being that of pale fists wrapped tightly around the steering wheel of his car, like the person driving was hanging on for dear life.

~~~~~

Bryan’s forehead hit against the pane of the cars window, his eyes jolting open like his body jerked awake when the back tire of the Mercury hit a pothole. He sniffed, blinking his eyes rapidly to rid them of the hour and a half of sleep he barley received. He stared dully out the window, flat fields of grass and corn passed in a blur outside the moving car, leaving the Proxy to wonder just how long they had been traveling. It could not be anymore then a day, the radio clock reading 4:34 in the evening.

He did not come to the conscious space until that early morning, his side ached and stung like a bitch, his position sprawled out on the back seat did not help the matter of his pain. He was confused at first, wondering why they were not back at the motel, why Masky was hunched over in the front seat, why Toby was in the driver's seat speeding down the highway. The memories came flooding back to him gradually, filling his head with the blood, the yelling, the fear. All the emotions he had experienced washed over him, leaving him feeling ironically empty. 

He had sat forward in the seat, leaning in between the two front seats much like Toby had done days before on their journey to find their Charge. The thought had crossed his mind of where she may have been, but it was drowned under his concern for his best friend. He gently moved Tim’s head around, trying to distinguish just how much damage had been done, he had breathed a sigh of relief when the wound had already scabbed over. Tim would most likely have a hell of a headache, but the damage would not be permanent. His attentions had then turned to the youngest Proxy. 

Bryan took in the tense muscles, the tight grip Toby held on the steering wheel. He was staring wide eyed straight ahead. He did not blink, but his neck popped and cracked every once in a while as he bordered on running 90 in a 65. Bryan grew concerned instantly, Toby looked terrified, horror struck in a way that could only spell disaster if he were to decide to lose focus on the contraption he was driving and those around him. Bryan had reached out, his touch light and meant to be comforting. But Toby whipped his head around, those wide hazel-gold eyes piercing straight through to Bryan’s soul. An icy chill ran down the man's spine at the hollow gaze, he felt paralyzed from that sheer look alone. Toby had turned back to the road just as quickly as he turned around, not speaking a word. But that feeling of freezing dread, still lingered on Bryan’s skin, like frozen claws crushing and sinking into his heart. 

After the initial shock of it all, Bryan busied himself with moving Tim from the front seat to the back without jostling him to badly. It would be in his best interest to lay down with his sustained head injury. It was a bitch and a half to get the older man out of the seatbelt and over the center console. Though, he was taller than the jacket wearing Proxy, Tim had a decent 10 pounds of pure muscle overlapping Bryan’s 135lb. Toby offered no effort of aid, he did not even seem to notice the commotion happening mere inches away from him. That of which drew an even deeper wedge of concern up from Bryan’s gut. In the end, the transfer was successful, and Bryan had Tim laying back against the leather seat of the Mercury in the most comfortable position it could provide. 

Then he waited.

And he continued to wait. Toby showed no sign of stopping the vehicle, the gas gauge read they were at a quarter of a tank. They would be stopping soon, rather by Toby’s will, or the will of an empty gas tank. His thoughts were drawn back to their Charge, to the night at the motel. How he had slammed the twitching teen into the wall, cursed him, belittled him, said so many things that Toby probably did not need to hear at that moment. He felt a small pang of guilt dig its way into his gut, contorting his intestines with a meat grinder of regret and remorse. He did not blame the younger male for beating the shit out of him, in retrospect, he probably deserved more. But he was surprised that Toby even bothered to bring them along, he could have left them, sprawled uselessly around the motel room like discarded garbage. He could have ran, freed himself of this existence of servitude and degradation. He has seen that look in the kids eyes, that look that screams he wants to flee, to run and never look back. To find somewhere he can hide, wither away without the overbearing demands of society and authority weighing down on him. To die peacefully instead of going through a violent and unexpected death.

Bryan had felt the same thing. Long ago, when he had first fell under the influence of the Operator. When he had began to puke blood and the black sludge that festered when his Master was near, that coated his mind in a gory, oozing tapestry of amnesia and pain. Tim had disappeared first, he remembered searching for days, weeks, months for his friend. All the while being hunted and preyed on by the Monster that took him. Bryan still was unsure if the Operator had found him useful on its own, if Alex had sold his soul in hopes of sparing his own. Or if Tim had somehow convinced the Monster of taking Bryan to. He did not want to dwell on it for too long. The thoughts brought up old memories, so much death, so much loss. So much pain.

The pressure on his lap ceased, he was quick to reach out and fumble over Tim’s waking form. Caressing him gently to check for any more bruising or open wounds. “You don't have to do that every time I wake up Bry”’ his words were heavy, laced with drowsiness and exaghuation, but they were legible this time, comprehensive much to Bryan’s relief. Bryan huffed out a laugh, his smile wavering as he took in his friend's pale face, the bags under his eyes standing out so much more, stubble edging along his jaw.

“True, but hell knows you can not take care of yourself” Bryan joked half heartedly, once again running his hands along Tim’s face. He seemed to be doing far better, he could form whole sentences and he did not sway as much as before, though the threat of possible damage was still present. Even so, Bryan thanked whatever creatures out there that provided them such good luck. Tim sat up slowly, running his hand along the back of his head only to pull back quickly with a hiss. “You will not suffer from any permanent damage, but it is going to hurt like a bitch for a while” Bryan liberated, watching Tim closely, afraid he would fall over at any moment.

“Where the hell are we?” Tim finally asked after a long moment of tallying his own damages, finding his left shoulder to be temporarily out of commission. Bryan could only shrug, he had no clue where they were by now, and he highly doubted Toby knew. The kid was in no condition to be concerned with street names and highway signs.

“Um, Toby has...he has been driving for a long time. I think he is just going in one direction” Bryan stated, lowering his voice out of instinctual precautions. Tim gave his lover a confused look, his pale blue eyes trying their damndest to read the uncharacteristic hesitancy on Bryans face. He turned his gaze to the front seat, Toby sat rigid, grip tight on the steering wheel to the point that his knuckles bled bright white. His breathing was rapid, but his eyes did not leave the road, something Tim gave him kudos for. 

He reached forward, all intentions going into getting the teens attention, but Bryan reached out and stopped him before he had a chance to place his hand on the twitching Proxy. Bryan shook his head negative, a look of unknowing fear playing across his face, leaving Tim to hesitate slightly in his next course of action. “We’re gonna have to stop again sooner or later. He has no idea where to go, and getting stuck on the side of the road is not the best scenario to be in” Tim finally said, knowing police would most definitely be on high alert after the night before. 

Bryan eventually with drew his hand from Tim’s wrist, allowing his friend to proceed with his earlier actions. Tim turned back to Toby, reaching forward once again, though hesitating for just a moment, his fingers curling back in anxiousness. He took a quick breath before slowly, gently placing his hand on Toby’s shoulder. There was no reaction, the teen did not even twitch. “Rodgers?” Tim called out the young Proxy’s last name, pressing down a bit heavier on his shoulder. Nothing. He swallowed thickly, glancing at Bryan for a moment before steadying himself on the edge of his seat. 

“Toby?”.

The teen twitched violently under his touch, whipping his head around much like he had done to Bryan, his gaze frantic, wild, lost, scared. Tim fell back against his seat, eyes wide and his skin rising with goose flesh, head pounding, vision spinning. The piercing sensation alone that radiated from Toby’s hazel-gold gaze was enough to knock the breath from his lungs. It was as though the black masses that conjured together beneath the teens flesh, hibernated within the deepest recesses of his mind, burrowed deep within his bones, rose up all at once to glare down the older Proxy, paralyzing him within his own body. 

And just like before, when Bryan had attempted the exact same thing, Toby returned his sights to the road in front of him. Tim released the breath that had been trapped in his lungs, the air pushing past his lips harsh and quick. “He’s been like that since I woke up” Bryan stated quietly, kneading his fingers into his friend’s good shoulder in order to calm him. Tim felt whatever energy he had left leave his body in an instant, his heart beat feveredly in his chest, in sync with the pulsing against his skull. 

“Are you alright?” Bryan’s concern was evident, bleeding into his words as his hands once again settled securely on Tim’s shoulders, as though he would catch him even from falling onto the floor boards right beneath their feet. Tim gave a nonchalant wave of his hand, even as he took in a deep breath to steady the sway of his vision when he straightened. He knew it was not safe for Toby to be driving, in this state or any other. 

He had read the kids file at some point long ago, he knew the trauma he suffered, the experience he had with automobiles. The tragedy he witnessed first hand. To stop would be just as dangerous, but Tim would rather be forced against a pathetic waste of space that called itself an officer of the people then take a chance with a psychopath with PTSD. He sat forward once again, not hesitating to place his hand on the younger Proxy, he could feel Bryan tense beside him, but forced himself on. They needed to stop.

“Toby, you have to pull over. If anything, you have to let yourself rest for a bit.” He tried to sound gentle, as gentle as he could. But comfort was not his forte, Tim was a hunter, a killer, a pawn used solely for the purpose of being bloodthirsty and gruesome. He felt as though, with each new day, he lost a bit more of his humanity. And one day he would wake and be no better than the animals that built their homes in the debris of previous life and called themselves a society. 

Toby paid no heed to his words. Leaving Tim with only one last resort. Or, well, the safest resort that may or may not result in their untimely deaths.

“Tobias Erin Rodgers, pull this fucking car over now!” 

The force behind the demand left his throat aching, he pressed his fist to his lips in hopes of quelling most of the coughing fit that decided to wreck his already struggling lungs. But over the harsh, dry hacking, Tim heard the squeal of brakes being slammed a bit too hard. He jolted forward, having to press his hand flat against the back of the driver's seat to keep from slamming his head into it. 

They had finally stopped.

~~~~~

They had pulled off on the side of a backroad. On the left a cornfield stretched farther than the eye could follow. On the right, a plain of green grass came up to meet their knees. 

As soon as the wheels of the Mercury stopped their constant roll, Bryan had leaned over the center console and threw the gear shift into park while Tim scrambled from the car, taking only a moment for his wobbly legs to adjust to being straight and on solid ground once again. Bryan called out to his friend to be careful with his head, to which Tim waved off his concern. He pulled open the drivers side door, Toby showing no acknowledgement of the action, he tapped the younger Proxy against the cheek in hopes of dragging the teen from the dark abyss he had fallen into. 

“Come on Toby, you can let go now, we’ve stopped” Tim had spoken softly, slowly, being sure to not startle the younger Proxy any more than his mind could take, any more than he already had. The process was beginning to grate against the Proxies nerves, it was not his job to babysit a traumatized child. But he supposed he owed him a bit of respect considering the situation. But even then, Tim could only think of their failure and possible punishment waiting for them back at the mansion. 

The jacket wearing man had to literally pry Toby’s hands from the steering wheel, his knuckles were white as a ghost, his grip like that of death, clinging to the dried, stretched leather of the wheel, refusing to release it as though doing so would be the end of him. 

As soon as his hands were empty, Toby seemed to snap from his inner solitude, life returning to his eyes, the hazel-gold sparking to light with fear and confusion. He tumbled out of the car, rolling onto the pavement and crab walking away from the contraption, his gaze wide and focused on the Mercury as though he was afraid it would come to life and eat him whole. He had scrambled to his feet and hightailed it into the tall grass on the side of the road which they found themselves at now, to have his mental breakdown. 

Tim and Bryan leaned against the side of Baby, watching as Toby sat rocking back and forth in the grass, he kept whispering to himself, limbs jerking and cracking worse with every passing minute. He was biting down on the tips of his fingers, blood dribbling down his chin and running in rivulets down the mutilated digits. “It’s a miracle he got us this far” Bryan liberated suddenly, their silence had been lasting for a long hour and a half, the sudden voice had Tim start but he would never admit that. “I mean, all things considered...the kid did pretty damn good” Tim admitted, “minus our Charge being gone, we’re in the middle of nowhere and we were passed out for a good majority of this hell bound car ride” he finished with the sarcasm he usually associated with the younger Proxy and his shenanigans.

Bryan gave a humorless chuckle. They were so fucking dead once they got back to the mansion.

The sky had begun to bleed into an array of dark blue and purples, stars were beginning their encore of the previous night, presenting themselves one at a time, hoping to outshine each other in a display of selfish indulgence. Toby had slowly ceased his rocking, his hands long since fallen to his sides in the grass. He sat staring off at nothing in particular, the rolling distance a perfect form of seeing everything yet nothing at all. 

They would have to leave soon.

“I think it’s time we try finding a gas station close by. I would hate to book it on foot, and leaving your precious Baby would be devastating”, Bryan had meant his last words to be humorous, he always did enjoy trying to get a ruse out of his friend when ever he could. But Tim did not answer. Bryan glanced over at the older Proxy, doing a double take when he saw the sweat petaled along his pale skin. “Shit! Tim are you ok!” said Proxy opened his mouth, but no words passed his lips. Blue eyes, glazed and unfocused slid slowly in Bryan’s direction, only to fall trapped behind heavy eyelids, Tim tilted back, head lolling against the roof of the car as he slid down the side.

Bryan hurried after his friend, reaching out and wrapping his arms around Tim’s shoulders in hopes of easing his descent if only slightly. He knew Tim was over doing it, even if it was just stepping outside of the car, he was still recovering and his head was in too much of a precarious state at the moment. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Bryan cursed over and over as he ran his finger tips against the now once again open cut on the back of Tim’s head. He pried open the back passenger door, placing his arms beneath Tim’s armpits, adjusting to haul his sorry ass back into the car, but his plan was thwarted by the searing pain tearing up and down his side. He fell back down onto his ass, pressing tightly against the wound on his side, his adrenaline was depleting with his energy and the pain was returning fullforce. This was not what they needed at the moment.

“God fucking damnit!” Bryan screamed up into the star studded sky, slamming his fist into the side of the car. Angry tears began to bubble up in the corner of his eye. He could not remember the last time he had shed any tears, the salty pearls burned and almost felt foregin against his cheeks. His nails dug into the wound along his side, blood seeping from beneath his sweatshirt and staining the underside of his nails, but he welcomed the pain. The outside pain at least made sense, better than the churning confusion constricting his chest, enclosing his throat and making it hard to breath. 

He tried to focus on the roar of cars going by, the crickets chirping in the tall grass, but he could not block out his own attempts at un-blocking his nose and gulping down air. It hurt, everything hurt so much and he hated it, but it was not the physical ailments that caused him so much grief, it was the swirls of emotion that he could not control, the overbearing fear that gripped at his very soul that drove him to slam his fist over and over into the metal of the Mercury. His body shook with the hiccups that forced their way out of his chest, in that moment, he would take the Slender sickness that had racked his body to the point of near death, versus this grueling suffering he was going through. 

The moon had begun to pierce over the outcrop in the far distance, the sharp edge bled a luminous white, the crescent tip seeming to cut jaggedly against the stars that surrounded it in hopes of being a part of its beauty. Bryan could see its slow ascent from the corner of his tear blurred vision. 

Long ago, he loved watching the moon creep across the velvet blanket that was the night sky, when he had no worries of pleasing an ungodly master that gave him more suffrage then the promised protection he remembered being whispered between the static so long ago. He could rememebr the times when he and Tim would lay on one anothers roofs on chill, clear nights; laugh at each others stupid jokes, pass a ciggerett back and forth, share the first briefe but soft presses of lips all in the secret keeping eyes of the stars. 

His fingertips gently ran along the edge of Tim’s jaw. That was so long ago. 

A shadow darkened the pale moon kissed skin of his friend. His dull green gaze shifted to the silhouette of the youngest Proxy welcomed into their ranks. Toby stood, back illuminated by the rising moon, looking every bit like an omnipotent god, looking down on him as though he was debating the fate of his pathetic earthly worshippers. Bryan, in that moment, felt Toby owed no one any sort of mercy, especially him. Toby’s hand jerked from where they sat at his sides, his eyes were hollow, the hazel-gold a dull mustard-brown, being swallowed mostly by his pupils. He stood staring down at the two older Proxies for an unamable amount of time, it felt like ages to Bryan before the teen moved further than the constant tic of his limbs. 

Toby stepped forward, bending into a crouch and throwing Tim’s limp arm over his shoulder before securing his hand on the unconscious man's hip. The twitching teen hauled the jacket wearing Proxy from the asphalt, Tim’s booted feet dragging along the concrete as Toby edged his body around a gaping mouthed Bryan and placed him in the open door of the car. With a slight, irritated struggle; Toby adjusted the older man against the seat of the Mercury, placing his head against the headrest as gently as he could, attempting to sit Tim up without the worry of letting him fall over. 

Once satisfied, Toby wordlessly snagged the keys from Tims’ jacket pocket intentions unspoken and unclear. Bryan suddenly reached out, gipping tightly to the teens jacket clad wrist. His lips parted but no words came, his cheeks were sticky from salty tears and red from his self induced asthma attack. Mustard-brown stared down at him with weighted emptiness, leaving Bryan to feel as though his chest was being compressed by an invisible force of nothing. And that terrified him the most.

“I…” the words died in his throat. He bit down hard on his lip, the taste of iron erupting along his tongue, staining his teeth an off pink. Digging his nails deeper into the bloody fabric of his sweatshirt, Bryan stared Toby squarely in his hollow eyes, gaze hard. 

“I’m sorry, Toby.”

It was as though a current of electricity coursed through the teen in that moment. Of course, Bryan knew that it was simply the teens Touretts, but the illusion was still present. Toby’s body twitched, his fingers curling tightly to the point they popped loudly, his eyes widened, brown seeming to fade a bit lighter, closer to that golden color Bryan was so familiar with seeing. 

“I..I should have said it earlier. I shouldn’t have to say it now, but…” a humorless laugh left his lips. Everything began to spill over, the stress from the assignment, the fear of Tims’ injury, the not knowing of what punishment awaited them on their return. It all pushed forward in a gushing tidal wave of tears and snot and hiccups that left Bryan feeling vulnerable, disgusting, useless. He was unused to being the one breaking down, he was always there for Tim when things began to build up and take their toll on his well being. Bryan had no right to breakdown, he was supposed to be the composed one, the one who never broke under pressure. Yet there he was, a blubbering mess on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, clutching to Toby like a fucking lifeline. 

Toby said nothing for a long moment, his gaze distant even as it pierced Bryan down to his very soul. His eye twitched, his neck popped and his free hand suddenly rushed up, slamming harshly into the side of his own head, the keys still clutched in his fist jingling on their ring. 

“S-sh-shut-shut u-u-up-u-pp-p!” the words were rasped harshly to no one in particular, Bryan felt no animosity directed at his well being which left the older Proxy with only a guess as to who the teen was referring to. Toby fell to his knees, the asphalt causing a loud crack to filter between them both, and Bryan made a mental note to check Toby’s knees later. “Ma-m-m-make th-them shut-shut-shut u-up”, he was begging now, this time Bryan could feel the desperation directed his way. Nail bitten, flesh chewed fingers gripped tightly to greasy strands of light brown hair, tangled by the mere frustration of being bombarded by voices that refused to keep quiet. 

They were both just broken souls, lost on the path of righteous damnation put together by an unforgiving god of blood and destruction. They clung to each other like abandoned children, seeking the affection deprived to them by the ones they needed it from the most. All while their hands sat stained by the sins that they can never wash away. All in the name of their faceless King.

A sharp, loud bang erupted from the tail end of the Mercury, piercing the moment like a jagged shank carved from the ribs of a spiteful bitch. The two Proxies head jerked in the direction, necks almost cracking from the sharp movement.

“The fuck was that?” 

The twitching teen swallowed thickly, his gaze flicking between Bryan and the asphalt beneath their knees. He seemed to contemplate for a long moment, neck popping, bottom lip being kneaded between his teeth until they bled. "Toby?". Said Proxy was on his feet without a word, proceeding with his earlier intentions.

Toby slipped the key into the slot on the end of the car, the trunk popping open with an audible click.

Bryan hauled himself from his seated position, using the Mercury as a makeshift crutch as he fought against the ache in his ribs. He slid along the cooled metal until he was in sight of what caused such a racket. His breath caught in his throat, eyes widening in shock.

The space was stuffed with clothes and their bags, the air that was freed was weighted heavily by the stench of urine and body sweat. But the older Proxy was not as focused on the smell as they were on the human being that was staring up at them, tied and muted by duct tape. 

Bryan gave a sharp and sudden laugh, throwing his head back as he ran his fingers through the mess of tangles that was his hair, a huge smile plastered to his face, cheeks still glistening with salty tears. “Toby, you fucking amazing little shit!” he laughed up at the sky. 

Their Charge squinted up at the two Proxies, tear tracks smeared across her cheeks and snot painting the upper part of duct tape across her lips. She let out a high pitched squeal at the sight of them, the majority of it being muffled by the tape. She kicked out her legs, succeeding only in shoving more bags out of her way. Toby leaned over her, pulling her this way and that as he pilfered through the disorganized mess that was the trunk, their Charge was rolled about, giving undignified squawks that did little on her behalf. 

Toby pulled back with their bag of medical supplies clutched tightly in his hands. He hesitated when he glanced down at Mackenzie, her eyes were glassy with her own tears, they stared up at him, pleading, desperate, hopeful. Toby turned his eyes away before slamming the trunk closed once more. Bangs and muffled screams erupted from the boot, but neither Proxy reopened the trunk. 

Bryan watched as the younger Proxy worked his way back to Tim, crouching down and opening up the bag. He ran his twitching fingers through Tims matted brown curls, being gentle as he went along with his search for the wound on the back of his head. When Tim flinched in his subconscious state, Toby fumbled through the medical bag before pulling out disinfectant and bandages. Bryan found himself stumbling back to sit beside the twitching teen, watching with heavy eyes as he got to work patching up the older male the best he could. Again, Bryan’s thoughts drifted to how they did not deserve this care that Toby was providing.

The bandaging was patchwork at best. Toby was not professional when it came to wrapping wounds. He barely paid heed to his own, let alone others. But Bryan supposed the attempt was well enough for now. His eyelids fluttered closed as he watched Toby wrap the bandages around Tims head, the constant motion sending the Proxy into a lulling state of fatigued. He figured taking a moment to rest his eyes would do no harm. 

They opened again to the feeling of cold antiseptic being poured into his stab wound. His old bandages left discarded at his side. But he did not have the strength to keep them open for long, and he was welcomed back into the recesses of darkness, telling himself once again that it was only for a moment. He drifted in and out from that moment on. Briefe, blurry glances of being buckled into the front passenger seat. Toby sitting back in behind the wheel, looking less like a hollow shell housing a decrepit soul, and pondering over their map. His last true remembrance was the bright, artificial, neon lights of a gas station “Open” sign before he leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the Mercury and entered his troubled dreams of past innuendos. 

~~~~~

**_“Oh hannah_ **

**_I wanna feel you close_ **

**_Oh hannah_ **

**_Come lie with my bones...”_ **

The cool, silver edge of the blade glided precisely through scarred flesh. Blood swelled from between the severed patches of skin, seeping through the clipped senew, migrating through the spliced veins that once carried the life gold beneath his skin in complicated but delicate interacacy. 

**_“Oh hannah_ **

**_Don't look away_ **

**_Oh hannah_ **

**_Just look at me the same...”_ ** ****

He did not even flinch as his skin split apart inch by inch, dull blue/grey following the path of the sharp edge as is serrated through his cheeks with long practiced ease. His hand did not shake, not like it did the first time so many years ago. 

Now, it felt easy. Painless. Numb.

**_“I don't wanna be your friend_ **

**_I wanna kiss your lips...”_ **

Most men shave the stubble from their chins when the scrappy hairs grew to be too much of a nuisance. But for him, the re-etching of his greatest masterpiece was what drew the razor to his flesh. He could blame the lack of facial hair on the patchwork skin that littered the majority of his skeletal structure on the flame and chlorine that had mutilated his flesh those many years ago. But that would be to easy. 

**_“I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath_ **

**_I don't wanna be your friend_ **

**_I wanna kiss your lips_ **

**_I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath…”_ **

A hollow, lidless gaze stared back at him. The reflection daunting, mocking, boasting and flaunting its knowledge of his worst imagines and greatest disturbances. 

Of all his little secrets and most twisted desires.

**_“Oh hannah_ **

**_Tell me something nice_ **

**_Like flowers and blue skies…”_ **

Red stained his teeth, his tongue flicked against the ragged, tender edges of his hand made smile. The phantom pains still sent pleasurable jolts dancing along his spine, but the taste was so bland now. Bitter. His own blood had become a distant memory in his ever growing conundrum of false securities and constant similarities.

**_“Oh hannah_ **

**_I will follow you home_ **

**_Although my lips are blue and I'm cold…”_ **

And it was all Toby’s fault.

**_“I don't wanna be your friend_ **

**_I wanna kiss your lips_ **

**_I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath_ **

**_I don't wanna be your friend_ **

**_I wanna kiss yo…”_ **

The smiling killer jabbed his thumb down on the stop button of the stereo remote, halting the words blasting from the speakers sitting haphazardly on the edge of his desk. He threw the small remote, listening to it clash and clatter against the hardwood floors from his position in front of his bathroom sink. 

“You have fucking terrible taste in music, Twitchy” he rasped to himself, leaning forward once again to finish the touchups on his smile. 

“I think it’s amazing!” 

His fingers where slick with blood, the tips glossy in a coating of red that could put even the most expensive nail polish to shame. He would claim only to himself that that was the reason his hand jerked in the process of searing through the cuts that had slowly begun to knit themselves back together in places bit by sufferable bit. Those few fibers that had the hopes of being one once again. Leaving a small rip that detoured from the rest of the cuts, a miniscule but noticeable mark that vered far off its intended course.

The razor pinged against the red splattered ceramic as it fell into the sink, Jeff’s patched knuckles bled white as he gripped the edge of the sink, a low un-namable sound escaped his throat, a mix of anger and frustration drowning the noise. He shoved back from the reflective glass, stomping his way out of the bathroom to stand menacingly in the centre of his room. His lidless irises bore into the individual invading his space, his natural urge to threaten, slice and kill bubbled up in his gut, but he pushed it down for the sake of his own sanity.

“The fuck you doing in here, Shrimp?”

Large, doe like green eyes turned towards him from their previous adventure around his room. A giant smile erupted across plump cheeks still layered in baby fat, dried blood flecked from the stretched skin, fresh red oozing down from matted brown locks to take its place. 

“I like that song!” Sally squealed, bouncing up and down on the mattress she was perched on. Jeff let out an irritated huff of air. He should have taken the little girls extended history with the twitching teen into account when he took the disc from the kids room. The killer was known for sneaking around from room to room and snagging music and other various objects that peaked his interests from the other members of the Mansion while they were away, the reasons as to why he did it were a mystery. 

Outrageous prospects varied from one Pasta to the next, from the idea that he simply was a thief that couldn’t keep his grubby hands off other peoples things (complements of BEN), to the concept that he found music to be a buffer between himself and his own sanity. Jane was quickly shut down for her ‘stupidly incompitent conspiracy’. That of course did not explain the disappearing knick knacks that seemed to wind up in the killers room, but no one had stepped forward to question his motives. 

Whatever the reason may have been, Jeff continued to indulge in it. His recent escapade had taken him back to the youngest Proxies personal space. To say he had snooped about the room would be an understatement, he practically ransacked the place. He dug through drawers and left everything in an even worse pardcament then it had been in before he took the initiative. He would never admit, even to himself, that he was in search of something more than just music. He needed something more, something to tie him closer to the Proxy in his absence. He was like a moth drawn to a flame, unable to look away, unable to let go of the unquenchable desire to fly right into the trap. Wanting to drown in the death that would come of flying too close to the sun. 

The beat of the music started up once again. Jeff snapped his gaze to Sally, she held his stereo remote in her small hand, flitting about the room in an uncoordinated dance that seemed more like she was having a seizure. Jeff let off an irritated growl, snatching the small girl up under one arm mid-twirl, causing her to giggle as she was handled like a rag doll around the room. Jeff ounce again shut off the stereo, tossing the remote haphazardly on the floor before proceeding to dispose of the child wiggling around in his arms. 

“Stop fucking movin’, Shrimp!” Jeff snapped at the child. Bringing her up from her place beneath his arm and holding her so that their eyes were level. "Why the hell are you in here" he rasped out, his words ragged and rough like two pieces of sandpaper being grated against one another. Sally giggled, kicking her legs in her free swinging state as she reached forward and ran the tips of her fingers along Jeff's exposed teeth, smearing blood across her pale skin. 

"I'll bite the bitches off" he hissed, only succeeding in making Sally laugh more. "Jeff, why do you like Toby so much?".

The question was innocent. Asked by a child that had no idea of the difference between what should and should not he said. Add that to her natural child incubated filter, that only kept her own woes from being spilt, and you have a disaster just waiting to unfold. Jeff felt the muscles around his lidless eyes twitch at the girls question, why did he like that twitching son-of-a-bitch so much? No, he did not like that little fuck at all, he refused to even consider it. He would admit only to himself that that bastard intrigued him, made him act in ways he usually would not, but that had nothing to do with liking the Proxy.

So what if he wanted to have his way with the twitching teen, hear him cry, and beg, and scream his name all at the same time. Hold the little fuck down by his throat, watch as his face bleeds red, purple and blue as he loses the flow of oxygen to his lungs. Taste the heavy musk of Toby’s sweaty skin as he fucked the ever living daylights out of the Proxy. Slice the teen open and display all his gorgeous bloody intrels across his bed, all while Toby screamed for him to go harder, faster, bloodier. He could already taste the Proxy’s blood on his tongue.

He enjoyed, however, the idea of Toby being immune to pain, to the sharp moments of intensity that followed a knife wound or a gunshot. Eyeless was always such a pussy, refusing to let Jeff do as he pleased during their times of intimate progress. Jeff was to much like an animal to be held back from his savage wants and needs. He needed to claw. And bite. And scratch. And taste blood. All for his own ferocious pleasures that derived from his lack of human morality. Now why he needed such things to come from, what he deemed to be a pathetic excuse of a Proxy, he could not even answer for himself. But he was certain of one thing, and one thing only.

He liked the fantasy of killing the little bastard.

“Clockwork likes him to, but I don’t like that she likes him.” Sally’s small, downtrodden voice brought the killer back from his inner musings, he had forgotten she was still in his grasp in the first place. She continued to dangle aimlessly in the killers hands, unperturbed by the fact she was not on solid ground. Jeff’s head tilted in curiosity, he may not have been one of the most observant Pastas of the mansion, but he was confident in his assumption that the small girl was drawn to the older woman like flies to a carcass, at least he had been.

“She doesn't deserve him. Always touching him, pressing against him, she kissed him!” the killer was taken aback by the sudden dark tone, watching as green eyes darkened to a much sinister shade. “And who exactly deserves Twitchy in your opinion, Shrimp?”, the question was asked sarcastically, the killer asking in reverence to his own amusement of the girls most likely self proclaiming answer. He was not expecting, however, the sudden and heavily weighted answer; “no one”.

Jeff sat Sally back down on her feet. In response she walked over to his bed and climbed atop it, legs swinging over the edge as she stared off into nothing in particular. “Not even you?” the killer asked, curiosity peaking at the sudden chill that ran down his spine when her gaze slid to him. “No one deserves him” she reiterated, before a smile split across her lips, throwing the killer for a loop as to her sudden switch in personality. He narrowed it down pretty quickly to kids being fucking creepy. 

“But! I know you like him! You watch him while he sleeps to!” the killer would have choked if he had been swallowing anything at the moment. Instead he snagged Sally up once again, this time by the back collar of her nightgown, and hauled her up into the air for the second time in thirty minutes. “Alright, you little pain in my fucking ass. Where the hell do you get off saying shit like that” he hissed, lidless gaze bore into her smiling face. “It’s true!” she squealed in the most high pitched, cheerful tone Jeff ever regretted hearing. “You watch him, when he is all knocked out because of the white candies he eats before bed. And sometimes you touch him, i’ve seen you do it. I like to watch him to some times. He’s...he’s happy then.”

Her little voice trailed off near the end, taking on a much sadder innuendo that Jeff was not prepared for. “You here to tell me to stay away from him?” he finally rasped, placing Sally down and attempting to pry the child from a self induced memoriam of depression. He knew what those were like, and did not suppose that a child should face those so early on in life. His attempt worked however, when the smile once again returned to Sally’s face, “well, yes!...And no. I can’t stop you from trying, Toby likes you to, even if he cusses and cries that he doesn't! But, if you hurt him, I will kill you~”, the smile was still present, but Jeff could still feel the piercing ice that clawed into his flesh at the words, even when he pulled on one of his multiple hoodies stained in splotches of light pinks and reds. 

“And what if I kissed him?” it was a stupid question, one that Jeff honestly did not care about the answer to. But the girl was humorous in her own, childish way, and Jeff had not felt that sense of childlike mentality in a very long time. Not that he had much of a childhood to begin with, he remembered lots of arguments, constant yelling. A familiar face splattered in blood before his memories grew hazy. He tried hard not to dwell on his own past. 

“It would be fuckin’ gross”, she scrunched up her face to elaborate on her distaste, blood seeping down along her cheeks. “Hey! Watch your fucking mouth, Shrimp” Jeff snapped, last thing he needed was one of his fellow house mates pounding on his door accusing him of teaching the younget member of the house how to curse. Sally gave him a scrutinizing look, hopping from the bed and following him from his room. “Why not?” she pouted at the killer, reaching out a small hand to tug on his hoodie sleeved arm, trying to drag his hand from his pocket. “Cause I fucking said so” he snapped, shaking his elbow to release her grip, “and stop touching me damnit”.

The two proceeded down the stairs, Sally continuously trying to pry Jeff’s hand from his pockets while the killer continuously shoved her small hands away. She bombarded the killer with questions, being the ever curious child she was, to which Jeff purposefully avoided answering with well thought out and delicate responses.

“How old are you?”

“None of your damn business.”

“Do you like dogs?”

“The fuck does it matter.”

“Can you give me a piggyback ride?”

“Hell no.”

“Do you like me?”

“Not particularly.”

The questions were never ending, at least it seemed that way to the killer. They proceeded even into the kitchen, were Jeff scavenged the cupboards and fridge for something to quench the growing hunger in his belly. He settled for a bowl of cereal, not particularly happy with the choice but he was no cook, and he sure as hell was not going to go ask someone else to cook him some food. He could not wait until the Proxies returned, Masky was decent when it came to meal preparation and Jeff was craving some chicken alfredo. 

Sally had pulled up a stool from the kitchen island, climbing it in order to sit herself on the counter to watch the killer go through the functions of making his sad breakfast/dinner meal. “There are pizza rolls in the freezer” she stated matter of factly, “did ask for your opinion” Jeff growled back, popping the lid of the milk and pouring a generous amount on his Cheerios. “No, but I want pizza rolls!” Sally smiled up at the killer, swinging her legs back and forth in an attempt to look oh so sweet. But Jeff was not buying her bullshit.

Did she even need to eat anyway?

“Make ‘em yourself, Shrimp” he grumbled around a mouthful of milk and grain. Sally pouted up at him, her fat bottom lip poking out in an admittedly cute action, an action that Jeff would never admit to finding cute. “Toby always makes me pizza rolls! So make me some!” she all but demanded, Jeff dropped his spoon back in his bowl, the metal clattering against the porcelain as though voicing his irritation. The killer leaned on the counter, forearm holding his weight as he turned towards the child, if he had eyelids they would be squinted in an overly heated glare. 

“Do I fucking look like that twitching mother fucker? Get your ass over there and make your own damn pizza rolls, you fucking brat”. Sally glared heatedly at the killer, mouth sitting in that continuous pout. Jeff settled the girl with a glare of his own, watching with sudden rising horror as the corner of her eyes filled with tears. “D….don’t you fucking dare!”, the first sniffles erupted from the girl, tears mixing with blood as they ran down her cheeks. "If you don't quite! I'll….i'll put ya in the toaster oven and see how hot it gets before you pop!" Jeff threatened, which did nothing to quell the Niagara Falls that was Sally's face. 

The existential crisis that was forming in the killers gut was not something he had felt in a great many years. How the actual fuck was he supposed to deal with this crying, sniffilign mess before him, he was not meant to quell crying children. He murdered, tortured and tormented, he did not cuddle, soothe and comfort. But just as suddenly as the tears came, they ceased altogether, her eyes grew wide and her cheeks split into a wide grin. A loud squeal ripped its way from her throat, as she slapped the top of the counter, Jeff jerked his head in the direction of her bright gaze. 

He stared out the small window above the kitchen sink, the view an overlook of the front yard and the forest beyond. Emerging from the edge of the trees was a sleek black Mercury, bottom half sporting days worth of caked on mud, dirt and dust. A cloud of dust was kicked up behind the machine as it roared its way up the drive, wheels unsteady on their path towards the mansion. Jeff felt his gut twist with an unknown emotion, he felt his pulse speed up with the increased beating of his heart. He could not explain even to himself what the feeling was, but he knew one thing for sure. The Proxies were back.

Toby was back.

He had to stop himself from following after Sally with the same amount of enthusiasm she held while she sprang from the counter and hurried towards the front door. Abandoning his cereal, the killer stalked nonchalantly after the small child, hands shoved in his pockets pro his usual non-caring manner. It was two turns right and three left in order to get from the kitchen to the front door of the house, the killer long since memorized the directions, he could accomplish the process in his sleep. Yet, he walked slower than usual, his steps cautious, almost hesitant. As though his body was telling him to take it easy, as if he was convincing himself to be weary of the confrontation. 

Sally was already pulling open the grand, dark oak doors when Jeff emerged around the corner. The excitement dying in her teetering bounces as the three Proxies stumbled into the foyer. Masky was slumped between the two, boots dragging uselessly against the floor, catching the rug as they hauled him further into the mansion. Hoodie did not seem to be faring much better, his face pale, circles beneath his eyes prominent. He held his side in a death grip as he staggered his way towards the stairs, Toby almost seemed to be carrying the weight of them both around his shoulders.

Jeff took in the sight, eyes focusing on the twitching teen leading the senior Proxies towards the stairs. He seemed far from the excited pipsqueak that had clambered enthusiastically into the car a mer week ago. His eyes were bloodshot and hollow, angry red marks marred his face, and blood had long since seeped through the bandages on his hands. In all honesty, he just looked tired. So very very tired. The killer wondered if the kid had slept at all. 

A cold chill settled along his bones, the room seeming to grow a bit cooler, a bit darker, and a little to small for the killers liking. He pushed down the reflexive shiver that always threatened to rattle through his skelton at the presence of the Slenderman, cursing the bastard and his dominating aura. 

The creature stood, ominous and still at the base of the stairs, seeming to fill the space around It with soul crushing darkness. Its fingers dangled by Its knees, faceless skull directed towards the group stumbling forward. The Proxies came to a sudden halt at the sight of their Master, Hoodie attempting to straighten from his pain induced, slumped position. The action doing little as he still slouched slightly. 

There was a long moment of silence, Hoodie paying the utmost attention to his Master, Toby staring blindly off to the side, acknowledging nothing that was going on. Sally slowly eased herself forward, standing beside the killer and reaching up for his hand. The killer was too distracted by the scene taking place before him to swat her small hand away, that's what he told himself at least.

"I-I apologise, Master. W-we are a bit behind schedule. But the assignment went off without issue" Hoodie struggled over the words, almost like it pained him to get them past his lips. "M-masky is fine!" The words were sudden, sharp. Mixed with pinches of anger, fear and desperation to form a cocktail of dangerous missteps. Hoodie snapped his mouth shut as soon as he spoke the words. 

"M-masky is fi-fine. He-he-he just nee-e-e-ed-ds to rest-rest for a bit. The ch-charge is in the car. I'll br-r-i-ing her to-to-to-to y-you now", Jeff never thought he would actually come to crave that annoying stuttering associated with the youngest Proxy. Toby slipped Masky's arm off his shoulder, Hoodie staggering at the sudden added weight, but did his best to stabilize them both. The twitching teen stalked past the two Pastas, not sparing either a glance. He disappeared out of the front door, his heavy steps echoing on the wooden porch. Jeff's attention was drawn from following the Proxy as a loud thud sounded on his left. 

Hoodie had lost the battle of keeping up both his and Masky's weight, a battle he had no real chance of winning if Jeff was being honest. Hoodie was breathing hard, clutching his side as he cradled Masky's head in his lap, he looked pathetic, cowering beneath the faceless glare of the Slenderman like a beaten dog. Jeff felt his fingers twitch at the sign of weakness, wanting so terribly badly to tip the Proxies head back and run his knife against his throat.

Toby quickly stalked back in, arms weighted down by another human being. A girl was dangling unconscious in his grip, his forearms supporting her shoulders and beneath her knees. He stepped in front of the pair on the ground, holding his Charge out as though displaying an offering to a merciless god in order to save another soul. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, inching by in an ever growing display of tension and anxiety. Finally, after a few minutes that felt too much like years, the slender creature shifted, only slightly, tendrils of black abyss emerging like hunting snakes from Its back, curving over Its shoulders at a slow, primal pace. 

The tendrils had barely brushed the girl when Toby pulled her close to his chest. The tendrils jerked at the reaction, the temperature dropping even lower, Jeff felt his shoulders grow ten times heavier from the weight of anger wafting off the Slender creature. 

" _ Release the girl. Now, Tobias _ ."

The voice echoed harshly in all of their heads, Sally whimpered, burying her face in Jeff's hoodie as the killer curled his fingers into his temple at the static feeling filling his head. The Slenderman had no real tone, the voice that danced in their heads when It felt the need to communicate was always monotone, indistinguishable if used for identification. But one would have to be dead not to take notice of the anger embedded in the mental voice. Toby's neck twitched, jerking sideways as if he could avoid the dominating presence just by turning away from It. 

The tendrils reached out once again, quicker in their advances, and wrapped themselves securely around the girl. She was pulled from Toby's grasp with intended force, leaving the teens arms to fall uselessly by his sides. 

" _ I advise that you remember your place, Proxy. Disrespect on your part will call for dire consequences _ ."

The heavily weighted threat was heard on all sides. As if the Slender creature wanted to reestablish his authority to all members of the congregation gathered before it. 

" _ Do I make myself clear _ ."

It was not stated as a question. The Operator did not ask questions. It only gave demands to his puppets to act out and follow without question. Toby jerked, his fingers popped, Jeff could hear the sound even from his place pressed against the far wall, the twitching teen nodded his head without much hesitation, leaving the Slender creature to rear back to Its full height. It turned without seeming to move at all and stalked back into the inching shadows from which It crawled. The air suddenly losing all of its weight, giving the killer a chance to breathe freely and not feel as though each breath he was taking in was the equivalent to choking down gallons of water.

Jeff shook off the loose grip Sally still had on his hand, shoving them deep into his pockets as he shook off the lingering dread that followed the Slenderman. He looked over the sad display of Proxies before him. Hoodie slumped over an unconscious Masky, clutching his side that seemed to be seeping blood. His gaze automatically slipped to Toby, the twitching Proxy jerking and shuddering in the aftermath. 

"You bastards look like death", the words slipped past dry, pale lips before the killer could comprehend their meaning. Pale hazel-gold glanced over at the killer, the gaze hollow and lost. Toby said nothing, turning his attention to his fellow Proxies and hauling Masky up from the ground. The killer was unaccustomed to being ignored, and he did not appreciate the sudden twist in his gut when the twitching teen did it to him. He stepped forward, only to stop suddenly my a small but heavy grip on his wrist, Sally stared back at him with a dark look in her green gaze, the look all but screaming; "don't you dare".

Jeff scoffed, snatching his arm back and proceeding after the Proxies, who were staggering up the stairs as best they could. “Come on now, after a week of being gone, you come back without even a hello?”, Jeff’s tone was undermining, skipping over the line and into sarcastic dick territory. “What the fuck Twitchy, you kill one of your boyfriends already?”. Toby whirled on the killer in that instant, causing Jeff to take an unexpected step down. Their height was even now, Jeff could see the clear disdain and anger stirring deep within the teens hazel-gold gaze. It was clear that Toby had no intentions of being fucked with today. 

“Back the fuck off and leave us the hell alone, Woods.”

The words were cold, weighed heavy by days of psychological aggression and torment that could only come from a moment of pure traumatization. Never in his life had Jeff wanted to fuck someone so bad. The killer reached out, with a sudden and ravaging urge to wrap his hand around the twitching teens throat, to feel that quickened pulse, touch the coursing blood beneath pale flesh with his own fingertips, but Toby was faster, so much faster. A hatchet blade was pressed heavily against his pale patched neck, the edge digging in to burnt flesh with no intent to back away. Jeff realized the only reason his head was still attached to his shoulders was because of the sudden call for the twitching Proxy by Hoodie himself. 

“He’s not worth it, we need to get Masky checked out” the senior Proxy huffed out with ragged breath, his face growing paler with each passing minute. Toby stared the killer down for a long moment, Jeff leaning forward so that the blade pressed deeper, the edges of his hand crafted smile turning further upwards, taunting the Proxy to do more, to proceed with slashing through his flesh. But Toby did no such thing, retreating his blade and replacing it back in its place at his waist. He returned to Masky’s side, hauling the two seniors upwards once again, leaving a frustrated killer in his wake.

Jeff ran his fingertips along his neck as he watched Toby ascend the stairs, only taking his eyes away from the twitching teen to asses the blood decorating his fingers. He wanted him, more than ever. He wanted to make that little fuck scream, beg, cry for mercy then torture him some more. He smeared his own blood along his lips, tongue flicking out to run along the digits in an absent minded display of twisted fascination. He watched as the Proxies disappeared over the second floor landing, his prey running off once again out of reach, open for others to stake claim over, to steal away from him.

He spit. Saliva tinted pink as it splattered against the stairs.

His blood still tasting of ash and bleach. 

Still tasting oh so bitter. 

**Author's Note:**

> Questions, comments and concerns are always welcome!


End file.
